


Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue

by setepenre_set



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pre-movie AU, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7875115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/pseuds/setepenre_set
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxanne desperately needs a date to her step-sister's wedding. Since her fake boyfriend has decided to ditch her, she ends up seeking Megamind's help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, come on, Wayne!” Roxanne says desperately, “how many boring parties have I gone to with you as your fake date? And now you’re just going to, to desert me when I finally need you to return the favor?”

“Don’t be like that, Roxy,” Wayne whines over the phone. “You can't expect me to leave Metro City for a whole week so I can go with you to Wisconsin. There’s no telling what Megamind would do while I was gone!”

“You went on vacation to Greece for three weeks this summer, you hypocrite! And all he did then was turn the city pool into a giant vat of jello! You’re just making excuses!”

“Roxy—”

“You just don’t want to have to come with me to my step-sister’s wedding.”

“I—”

“How long have we been fake-dating, Wayne?”

Wayne sighs.

“Seven years,” he says.

“That’s right, Wayne,” Roxanne says, “seven. very. long. years. Seven long years of datelessness for Roxanne! Seven long years of going to fashion shows and charity balls and—and garden parties with stupid little chicken pastry things. And yet every time my family’s in town, it’s oh I’m just so busy, Roxy; I can’t make it. The whole point of fake dating you was so I could get my mother off my back—and you know what she said to me, the last time she came to visit, Wayne? She said _if I didn’t see that boyfriend of yours on tv everyday, I’d think you were making him up, Roxanne **ha ha ha**_ **.** ”

“I’m sure she was joking,” Wayne says. “If she laughed.”

“ _It was a fake laugh,_ ” Roxanne hisses, “Wayne, I am not going to this goddamn wedding alone.”

“So take someone else!” Wayne says brightly. “Hey, what about that guy who works with you? The—you know, the guy, the one with the red hair—I can’t remember his name.”

“Hal?!” Roxanne demands in outrage. “Did you seriously just suggest that I take _Hal_ to my step-sister’s wedding?!”

“Sure!” Wayne says, evidently oblivious to her tone, “he seems like a cool guy, right?”

“…I have no words,” Roxanne says, “for how how very _not right_ that statement is. But leaving aside Hal’s extreme creepiness, may I just point out that my family is under the impression that I am dating you? How am I supposed to bring someone who isn’t my boyfriend to this wedding?”

“We could break up?” Wayne offers. “Just for a while, and then get back together!”

Roxanne growls, low in her throat.

“Oh, rest assured, we will be breaking up,” she says darkly. “You—unreliable—self-involved—”

“Not until after my mother’s party this weekend, though, right?” Wayne asks, “Because I already told her you were coming and I don’t wanna mess up the seating arrangements…”

Roxanne hangs up on him.

She glares at the invitation hung up on her refrigerator.

Okay. Okay, so she has—two weeks to find herself a date to this thing. She can do that! She can totally do that!

Oh, who is she kidding; there is no way she can do that!

She’s going to have to do something drastic.

* * *

 

“Okay,” Roxanne says, as soon as the kidnapping bag comes off the next time, “so I’m aware that this is not actually how we do things, Megamind, but I really need to schedule an emergency kidnapping.”

Megamind, seated in his tall-backed chair, blinks at her.

“—need to schedule a what, now?” he asks.

He turns a baffled look on Minion, who shrugs, looking just as confused.

“An emergency kidnapping,” Roxanne says, “I need to schedule it. My step-sister’s getting married and I don’t have a date.”

Megamind tilts his head at her.

“You—don’t want to go to your step-sister’s wedding?” he asks hesitantly. “Also, what about—Captain Tights?”

“Captain Tights,” Roxanne says scathingly, “is an asshole. Worst fake boyfriend ever.”

Megamind gapes at her.

“…fake?” he manages to say after a moment, “uh?”

(well, hell, she probably shouldn’t have told him that, but she is enraged all over again at the mention of Wayne—seriously, seven years and this is what she gets?)

“Fake,” Roxanne says, “entirely fake. As in not dating, never dated, just pretended to date so that my mother would shut up about the fact that I’m doubtless going to be single forever and die alone and get eaten by my cats before anybody notices I’m gone.”

Megamind stares at her.

“—but you don’t have any cats,” he says faintly.

“I know!” Roxanne says, wanting to throw her hands up in the air in exasperated agreement but thwarted by the fact that she’s tied to a chair. “I know! It doesn’t make any sense! But she’s convinced that’s what happens to single women who live alone in the city: they die and they get eaten by their cats. That’s just how it goes. So you see why I need you to kidnap me.”

“…so you don’t get eaten by your nonexistent cats?” Megamind asks, looking lost.

“No! So I don’t have to listen to my mother tell me that I’m going to get eaten by my nonexistent cats,” Roxanne says.

“But—” Megamind says, and then hesitates.

“But! But what?” Roxanne demands, because Megamind had better not let her down on this, damn it; she is relying on him. “You kidnap me all the time; how is this different?!”

“Well,” Megamind says, “I—I mean—family—wedding—togetherness—things,” he waves a hand vaguely, “aren’t they—you know—important?”

Roxanne stares at him for a long moment. Megamind looks back at her, his eyes darting away nervously for a moment and then meeting hers again. There’s a line of confusion between his eyebrows.

Seriously, what kind of supervillain cares about family wedding togetherness things?

(Abruptly, Roxanne remembers the way Megamind refers to himself as ‘daddy’ when he’s talking to the brainbots. That’s—huh—she never really—thought about that, much, before, but—that’s—interesting.)

She sighs, abruptly feeling guilty for conspiring to skip Laura’s wedding.

“They are,” she admits. “They are important. But—Megamind, in all seriousness, I really don’t think I can deal with going to this thing without a date. And it’s in a week and a half. I can’t find a date in a week an a half!”

“You can’t?” Megamind asks, frowning deeper now. “But—but you’re—” he glances away from her.

“—what?” Roxanne asks, after a long moment of silence.

Megamind clears his throat.

“Never mind,” he says. “I’ll—certainly, if you require it, I can pencil you in for a…”

Megamind trails off, his eyes lighting up with what Roxanne recognizes as his _I have just come up with a really bad plan that will probably blow up both literally and metaphorically in my face_ expression. Then his face falls and he shakes his head.

“—I can pencil you in for a kidnapping,” he repeats, “Miss Ritchi; how would—”

“You just thought of something,” Roxanne says, curiosity getting the better of her.

“I—it was—nothing, really,” Megamind says, waving a dismissive hand. “Tell me, what time would work best for you for the—”

“What did you just think of?” Roxanne asks, because she can’t help herself.

“It’s—well,” Megamind bites his lip, “really, it’s nothing; I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested in—you’d never agree, so—honestly, it was just a—”

“Oh, just tell me!” Roxanne says impatiently.

“Well, I—I’ve designed a—” Megamind flushes, “—wearable hard-light holographic projection?”

Roxanne blinks at him—a holographic—wearable—understanding dawns.

“You mean, it—” she begins.

“Can make the wearer look like someone else, yes,” Megamind finishes quickly, “so if you, ah, wanted it to appear as if—Metro Man—were with you, then—”

“No, that wouldn’t work,” Roxanne says, shaking her head.

“—ah,” Megamind says, shoulders dropping, gaze flicking away from her, “no, like—like I said, I didn’t think you’d—”

“I already told my mother I broke up with Wayne,” Roxanne says, making a face.

That had been an unpleasant conversation. Her mother had been loudly disappointed and things had devolved—as they usually did, when she talked to her mother—into an argument, and when her mother had implied that Roxanne was probably never going to find someone else, Roxanne had wound up stupidly implying that she already had found someone else and—

“Could you—look like someone besides Wayne?” Roxanne blurts out, before she can think better of it.

Megamind’s eyes go wide, flying to her face.

“Uh,” he says, “wh—yes? Are you—are you actually—do you want me to—”

This really is a bad plan, a very bad plan which is definitely probably going to blow up in both of their faces, but—oh, to hell with it, Roxanne decides. Sometimes the potential explosions are worth the risk!

“What are you doing this weekend?” she asks Megamind. “We need to plan this thing out.”


	2. Chapter 2

Megamind jumps into his chair and arranges himself into his most intimidating pose, scarcely able to contain his excitement enough to turn his gleeful grin into a villainous smirk.

Miss Ritchi is going to be so impressed with him—ah, with his _plan_ , that is, yes, his _plan_ , which is impressive and going to impress her—he’d actually based it on a comment she’d made a month or so ago, when she’d pointed out dryly that there was no point in him continuing to antagonize Metro Man when the hero was able to fly—

(ooh, she is going to have to be impressed when she sees the new hoverbike!)

He signals to Minion to pull the kidnapping bag from Miss Ritchi’s head.

“Okay,” Roxanne says, her hair, briefly disarrayed by the bag, falling back into place, “so I’m aware that this is not actually how we do things, Megamind, but I really need to schedule an emergency kidnapping.”

Megamind, his mouth open to deliver his usual sinister opening remark, stares at her.

She—she—

“—need to schedule a what, now?” he asks, feeling as though the logical underpinning of the universe has come undone.

What is—what is—

He looks at Minion, who shrugs at him, looking as lost as he feels.

“An emergency kidnapping,” Roxanne says, as though the words are going to somehow magically make sense the second time around. “I need to schedule it. My step-sister’s getting married and I don’t have a date.”

Megamind tilts his head. Okay, none of that makes sense.

“You—don’t want to go to your step-sister’s wedding?” he asks. “Also, what about—” Metro Man, your boyfriend, he doesn’t say, his stomach clenching and his heart twisting as they always do when he thinks about Roxanne with that— “Captain Tights?” he finishes, instead of saying one of the much worse things on the tip of his tongue.

“Captain Tights,” Roxanne says, her perfect lips twisting into a snarl, “is an asshole. Worst fake boyfriend ever.”

Megamind—feels as if—as if the world has fallen away, but somehow he’s not falling, because did Roxanne just imply that her relationship with Metro Man is—

“…fake?” he says, finally, “uh?”

“Fake,” Roxanne says, “entirely fake. As in not dating, never dated, just pretended to date so that my mother would shut up about the fact that I’m doubtless going to be single forever and die alone and get eaten by my cats before anybody notices I’m gone.”

Megamind stares at her and attempts to parse that comment into something he can comprehend.

“—but you don’t have any cats,” he says faintly, telling his stupid, ridiculous heart to stop fluttering as if the fact that Roxanne is not, and apparently was not ever with Metro Man, matters, like this means he has some sort of chance with her—he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t; the very idea is beyond absurd.

But he can’t stop thinking of it, can’t stop picturing it: Roxanne smiling at him, holding his hand, their fingers tangled together, and then she leans forward and brushes her lips over his cheek in a kiss.

It doesn’t work, though, the image of the two of them together. He doesn’t fit with her: the blue skin, the overlarge head, the general—wrongness of him. The picture blurs, his features going indistinct, and she’s smiling at someone else, someone normal, someone human.

“I know!” Roxanne says, shoulders twitching upwards as if she wants to gesture but can’t because of the ropes holding her in place—

(the only reason she’s here; remember this, Megamind. If she weren’t tied up she would be gone by now.)

“I know!” Roxanne continues. “It doesn’t make any sense! But she’s convinced that’s what happens to single women who live alone in the city: they die and they get eaten by their cats. That’s just how it goes. So you see why I need you to kidnap me.”

“…so you don’t get eaten by your nonexistent cats?” Megamind asks, feeling as though he must have missed something vitally important about this conversation at some point.

“No!” Roxanne says, “So I don’t have to listen to my mother tell me that I’m going to get eaten by my nonexistent cats!”

Ohh. That—okay, makes—a little more sense. He thinks. Although—getting threatened with consumption by nonexistent cats does seem unpleasant, but surely it’s hardly a sufficient reason for—

“But—” Megamind begins, and then stops himself, not sure how to phrase this in a way that won’t seem like criticism.

“But!” Roxanne says impatiently, “But what? You kidnap me all the time; how is this different?!”

“Well,” Megamind says hesitantly, “I—I mean—family—wedding—togetherness—things,” he gestures nervously, “aren’t they—you know—important?”

Roxanne stares at him. Megamind fidgets under the pressure of her gaze, his eyes darting away from hers. He forces himself to meet her eyes again. Why is she looking at him like that?

She sighs.

“They are,” she says, “They are important. But—Megamind, in all seriousness, I really don’t think I can deal with going to this thing without a date. And it’s in a week and a half. I can’t find a date in a week and a half!”

“You can’t?” Megamind asks, surprised. “But—but you’re—”

_(perfect)_

He stops himself from finishing the sentence just in time, glances away from her, tries frantically to think of a way to finish that sentence that doesn’t involve giving himself away completely.

“—what?” Roxanne asks finally.

Megamind clears his throat.

“Never mind,” he says hurriedly. “I’ll—certainly, if you require it, I can pencil you in for a…”

like it’s a date, like—

(Roxanne smiling up at him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, and then the image shifts and he’s someone else)

(god, he wishes he could be someone else for her, but—)

oh.

He—he could, couldn’t he? He could—the holographic watch, he could look like someone else and then—

—and then, what? Go with Roxanne to her step-sister’s wedding?

Right, he thinks scornfully at himself, as if she’d ever want to be that close to you for that long.

He shakes his head to get rid of the ridiculous idea.

“—I can pencil you in for a kidnapping,” he says. “Miss Ritchi, how would—”

“You just thought of something,” Roxanne says.

“I—it was—nothing, really,” Megamind tells her, gesturing dismissively. “Tell me, what time would work best for you for the—”

“What did you just think of?” Roxanne asks.

“It’s—well,” Megamind hesitates, biting his lip, stomach tightening—he doesn’t want to tell her, doesn’t want to hear her say no—“really, it’s nothing; I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested in—you’d never agree, so—honestly, it was just a—”

“Oh, just tell me!” Roxanne says.

Damn.

“Well, I—I’ve designed a—” god, this is embarrassing; Megamind feels himself blushing, forces himself to continue, “—wearable hard-light holographic projection?”

Roxanne blinks.

“You mean, it—”

“Can make the wearer look like someone else, yes,” Megamind says, talking too fast, “so if you, ah, wanted it to appear as if—Metro Man—were with you, then—”

“No, that wouldn’t work,” Roxanne says.

“—ah,” Megamind says, feeling as though he’s just swallowed a stone. He looks away. “No, like—like I said, I didn’t think you’d—”

“I already told my mother I broke up with Wayne,” Roxanne says.

Megamind stares at one of the buttons on the nearby console, not really seeing it, telling himself that he’s not disappointed at Roxanne’s refusal because he wasn’t hoping—

“Could you—look like someone besides Wayne?”

Megamind’s eyes snap up to Roxanne’s face. She’s looking at him, a slight flush along her cheekbones; she looks uncertain, but she also looks as though she’s quite serious.

“Uh,” Megamind says, “wh—yes? Are you—are you actually—do you want me to—”

Evilgodsinevilheaven is this actually happening?

Roxanne sets her mouth, her chin going up, expression suddenly determined.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Roxanne asks him. “We need to plan this thing out.”

Megamind stares at her for an embarrassing several seconds of stunned silence.

“I—I—nothing,” he manages to stammer out finally. “I’m—not doing anything.”

* * *

 

“Sir,” Minion says, and Megamind jumps, snapping out of his glazed contemplation of—what was he even staring at, the wall? Yes, looks like the wall.

“Mm?” Megamind says.

“Sir,” Minion says again, and this time Megamind notices how flat his tone is, and turns to look at him.

Minion’s mouth is flat, too, his expression concerned.

“I think this is a bad idea,” Minion says.

“Oh, nonsense, Minion!” Megamind says.

(He knows it’s a bad idea; he just doesn’t care. Roxanne requested his company. For an entire week. The world can end as a result, as far as he’s concerned, and he’ll still count that as a win.)

“An whole week away from Metro City, Sir?” Minion says, fins fluttering with worry. “And I won’t be with you. What if something happens? What if—this is a trick?”

Megamind stares at him.

“A trick?” Megamind repeates incredulously. “Minion!”

“I know, I know!” Minion says, wringing his robotic hands.

“I thought you liked Miss Ritchi!”

“I do! Sir, I do, but—” Minion shakes the headpiece of the robot suit.

“But what?”

“But,” Minion says slowly, “I wouldn’t be— _very_ upset—if she were to. You know. If she tricked us.”

“Meaning you think I would be?” Megamind scoffs to hide the way his heart aches at the suggestion. “Don’t be ridiculous, Minion! I might find Miss Ritchi—amusing; I might even—enjoy her company, but—I certainly don’t trust her.”

“…right,” Minion says, still not looking completely convinced. He sighs. “Sir, are you really sure you want to do this?”

Megamind takes hold of the edge of his cape, plucks at it with nervous fingers.

“I’ve never been to a wedding before, Minion,” he says softly.

He hears Minion sigh again.

“Just—are you sure this isn’t _already_ some sort of trick?” Minion asks.

Megamind glances up at him, frowning.

“I mean,” Minion blurts out apolgetically, “she got you to let her go when she asked.”

(He had. He had let her go when she asked. A more convincing villain would, doubtless, have made her beg for it, but all Roxanne had needed to do was mention what she wanted, and Megamind found himself untying the ropes.)

 _She has you wrapped around her finger,_ Megamind thinks, and then nearly chokes at that mental image: Roxanne’s hand, blue tentacles winding around one of her fingers.

(fuck that is entirely inappropriate stop thinking it stop thinking it)

“Today’s kidnapping,” Megamind says loudly, feeling himself blush, “has merely been _postponed_. Because otherwise I might end up in the prison infirmary this weekend and we need to plan!”

Minion makes an unconvinced noise and Megamind glares at him.

“It will be fine,” Megamind insists. “We will—will go on this trip and then we’ll come back and everything will go back to normal.”

“If you say so,” Minion says unhappily.

“I do say so!” Megamind says. “Nothing will change! You’ll see.”

“Hm,” Minion says.

“Nothing will change,” Megamind repeats quietly to himself, reminding himself that it was stupid to hope. “Nothing.”


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Friday comes, Roxanne has worked herself up into a bit of a state. God, what was she thinking, asking Megamind to pretend to be her boyfriend for a week?

He is a supervillain and this is insanity. And now he’s coming to her apartment so they can talk, and should she make snacks? Drinks? What is she supposed to wear?

This isn’t a date, she tells herself sharply, get a grip.

Good lord, she is really out of practice, if a not-even-a-fake-date planning session with Megamind is causing her this much anxiety.

She changes her clothes three times before finally settling defiantly on the same outfit she wore to work.

(She doesn’t want to look like she’s trying too hard.)

***

Megamind comes wearing what he usually wears, of course. After he knocks on her balcony door (madness, this is madness) and she lets him in (madness!) Roxanne blurts out—

“We should go shopping tomorrow.”

Megamind blinks at her.

“Shopping,” he says, as though it’s an utterly foreign concept.

“Clothes, for you,” Roxanne says, “and also I need to get gifts.”

She’s ready to have to argue, but—

“Ah; of course, I’ll—shopping, yes.”

Roxanne closes her mouth. Huh. That was—easier than expected. She’s had real boyfriends who were much less cooperative than this. Maybe this is actually going to work out okay.

“All right,” Megamind says, when they’re seated on the couch together.

He flourishes what looks like a wristwatch that’s been wired to a small, handmade laptop.

“I’ve brought the holographic watch, Miss Ritchi; how do you wish me to program it? Skin color—hair color—I’m afraid I can’t adjust the eye color; you’re stuck with green, but everything else—height—build—what sort of boyfriend do you desire, Miss Ritchi?”

“Can’t you just make it look like you, except, you know, human?” Roxanne asks.

Megamind goes still.

Roxanne feels her face go warm, though she’s not sure why; possibly it has something to do with the way Megamind is staring at her as if she’s crazy.

“Like me,” he says blankly.

“Yeah,” Roxanne says, wondering what his problem is. “Human, but you. It’s gonna be too weird if you look too much like somebody else.”

“Right!” Megamind says, his face contorting into an odd expression. “Right—yes. Of—of course. I can. Definitely do that; human version of myself, that’s the first thing that I—designed…”

He opens the laptop and swiftly presses a few keys, then unplugs the watch from the computer, buckles it onto his wrist, and turns a dial.

There’s a sort of rippling flash all over his body, and then—

“Wow,” Roxanne says, without quite meaning to.

Megamind gives her a gratified look.

And it is Megamind, unmistakably Megamind, in spite of the hologram. His head is smaller, of course, but he’s still bald. His skin is brown now, instead of blue, and, although he’s still small and slight, the watch seems to have made some sort of subtle change to the proportions of his body; he’s shaped just a little bit differently now, more human. But his facial features are the same—the color of his eyes and the shape of his nose and the high cheekbones and the line of his facial hair over his sharp chin.

“So,” Megamind says, and god, that’s weird, his voice coming out of a face that is almost familiar and yet definitely not him, “does—does this—meet with your approval, Miss Ritchi?”

“Yeah,” Roxanne says, “yeah, you look—that’s—this is good.”

Megamind looks slightly relieved, and then he glances away from her, gloved hands plucking at the edge of his cape.

 

“You should stop calling me Miss Ritchi,” she says.

“Right,” Megamind says.

She waits for a moment.

“So you should call me Roxanne,” she prompts.

Megamind’s eyes go wide. He hesitates, and Roxanne gestures for him to say it.

“— _Roxanne_ ,” he says.

Oh. That is—odd, hearing Megamind say her name; it gives Roxanne a strange, swooping sort of feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she’s wavering on the edge of somewhere high, like the moment before she starts to fall.

“—now say _sweetheart_ ,” she tells him.

“…sweetheart,” Megamind repeats, lips shaping the word awkwardly.

“Darling.”

“Darling,” Megamind says, not looking any more comfortable.

“Baby,” Roxanne says.

“—baby,” Megamind says, and outright makes a face at that. “Miss Ritchi, I really don’t think—”

Roxanne laughs.

“Okay, yeah, those really aren’t working for you, are they?” She shakes her head ruefully. “Honestly, I’ll be happy if you can just manage to remember _Roxanne_.”

“ _Roxanne_ ,” Megamind says.

“There you go,” she says. “So what do you want me to call you? Also, take off the disguise; it’s weirding me out; I want to see your real face when we’re talking.”

Megamind stares at her, more than slightly like a small animal caught in the lights of an incoming car. When he doesn’t move to take off the disguise watch, Roxanne reaches out to unbuckle it from his wrist herself.

He flinches backwards, jerking away from her.

“Whoa,” Roxanne says, “uh?”

“—sorry!” he says, taking the watch from his wrist and putting it down, his real features flickering back into visibility, “sorry, ah, not—not used to—” he waves a hand.

“Okay,” Roxanne says, watching him.

He flushes, pink lighting up the blue of his cheekbones, burning bright on the slightly pointed tips of his ears.

“Anything you like,” he says.

Roxanne tears her eyes away from the tips of his ears, blinking.

“—sorry, what?” she says.

“You—asked what you could call me,” Megamind says, “you can—call me anything you like.”

“Okay,” she says, hesitating only a moment before adding, “sweetheart.”

Megamind blushes even deeper, in a way that Roxanne finds _really enjoyable_ for some reason.

“But that’s not really what I meant,” she adds.

Megamind looks at her blankly.

“I meant a name,” she says, “what name do you want to use?”

* * *

 

“…oh,” Megamind says. “I—”

(god, she’d called him _sweetheart_ ; how is he supposed to think when she just—focus, Megamind! pay attention! she’s waiting for an answer, you idiot—)

“Michael Niebieski,” he says, giving her a name that he already has documentation for. He’ll have to give up that particular alias after this, of course, but it’s a small price to pay.

“Michael,” Roxanne says, making a thoughtful moue with her mouth. “Mike. Mickey.”

“Must you?” Megamind says, making a face.

 _Mickey_ , for the love of Lovecraft.

“Mi?”

“Mi is—acceptable,” Megamind says begrudgingly. “Do you want me to call you—Roxy?”

“Ugh, no,” Roxanne says. “I hate that.”

“Oh, good; so do I,” Megamind says.

Roxanne laughs.

“Okay,” she says, “backstory. We’ve been dating for three months.”

“Three months,” Megamind agrees, his stomach flipping over at the matter-of-fact way she said we’ve been dating.

"Long enough that it won’t be weird for me to take you to the wedding, but short enough that it won’t be weird I didn’t tell my family about you before this.”

"How did we meet?” Megamind asks, “I—think we should probably stick as close to the—truth as possible? Lies are easier to—”

“—remember that way, yeah,” Roxanne says, “and easier to tell. So, work?”

“Michael Niebieski owns and electronic repair and maintenance company,” Megamind offers, which is—yeah, he’s definitely not going to be able to use this name after telling her that, and that is a pity, because that company comes in handy—amazing, really, where people will let you go if you look like a repair man. “I got called in to fix something at the station.”

“We met—how long ago was it, sweetheart?” Roxanne asks, reaching out to lace their hands together, and Megamind freezes for a half second before he gets it: the way she’s smiling at him expectantly, like they’re performing in front of an invisible audience—oh, this is a rehearsal; they’re practicing.

“Seven years ago,” Megamind says.

Roxanne laughs.

“Was it, really?” she says, “Yeah, I guess we really have been friends for a long time, haven’t we? Anyway, we met seven years ago.”

“When you first started dating Metro Man.”

Roxanne shook her head.

“No, I wasn’t dating him when we met, remember? I met you first.”

“Ah, of course,” Megamind says (he supposes he did, technically, meet her first, if by _meet_ you mean kidnap, threaten, and make a fool of himself in front of). “Anyway, with him around, I knew I didn’t have a chance. So I never said anything.”

“You should have,” Roxanne says, “I always liked you better than him, you know.”

That throws Megamind for a loop, very nearly makes him break character entirely, his heartbeat doing some sort of hopscotch-y thing inside his chest before tripping into triple time, but—

—they’d agreed to stick as close to the truth as possible, yes, but Roxanne was probably not sticking quite as close to the truth as Megamind (I knew I didn’t have a chance so I never said anything). There was no way that she meant that she liked him better than Metro Man, because that would imply that she liked him at all, which—yeah, that definitely wasn’t true.

(She’d said they were friends; that certainly wasn’t true, either. He just wishes his stupid heart would get the memo)

“Well—after you—broke up with Metro Man, I—finally got the nerve to ask you out,” he says.

Roxanne snorts.

“Please, sweetheart,” she says, “I think we both know that _I’m_ the one who asked _you_.”

“—okay, yes, fair,” Megamind says, and Roxanne laughs (god, her laugh; he wants to make her laugh again.) “But!” he says, holding up the finger of the hand that isn’t still holding Roxanne’s, “But! I totally intended to to ask you and definitely would have done so if you hadn’t beaten me to it!”

Roxanne laughs again—ha! he wins!

“Riiight,” she says, still snickering. “You totally would have done it. Not like you had seven years worth of opportunity or anything.”

“I was working up to it!” Megamind protests.

“For seven years?”

“You had a boyfriend! And you didn’t like me.”

Roxanne rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against his (Megamind’s breath catches).

“Yes, I did,” she says. “I’ve always liked you. Idiot.”

Megamind’s breath catches again. God, this is torture, hearing her say that and knowing that she’s lying.

“—where did we go on our first date?” Roxanne asks.

“…the library?” Megamind offers.

Is that a thing people do for dates? He doesn’t actually know how this is supposed to work.

“The library? For a date?” Roxanne asks.

(shit; that’s evidently not a thing people do)

She laughs.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” she says.

(so the library thing is…good? weird but good?)

Roxanne tips her head, frowning slightly.

“—do you actually like libraries?” she asks. “The Metro Library hasn’t ever been damaged by one of your plots—”

(…does she really want to know this about him? Does she—does she care—? Well, Roxanne has a lot of curiosity; it’s one of the things he lov— _likes_ —ah, fuck it; he’s allowed to think it in the privacy of his own head: it’s one of the things he _loves_ about her. One of the _many_ things.)

“I love the library,” Megamind says, and then, because he is an idiot who cannot deal with the way Roxanne is looking at him (like he might actually be interesting), he babbles, “I actually lived there for a while, when I was—” _homeless_ , he stops himself from saying just in time, “—a teenager.”

“What?” Roxanne says, “Seriously?”

“Er. Yes?” Megamind says, “this—this was pre-Lair, of course; we always knew it was temporary.” He shrugs. “But it was—nice. I liked it. I—still go there sometimes, after hours.”

Fuck. He shouldn’t have told her that.

“You’ll have to take me sometime,” Roxanne says.

Megamind frowns, looking at her, confused.

“But—I never do evil plots in the library,” he points out.

There’s a half a beat of silence.

“Yeah, I—I meant,” Roxanne says, and then looks away from him, taking her hand from his, “never mind.”

Megamind’s hand feels cold, with hers gone, which is ridiculous; he’s wearing gloves, and Roxanne’s apartment is quite warm. He frowns down at his own hand.

And—odd, uncomfortable silence falls; Megamind isn’t really sure how to break it, if he’s supposed to break it, even, or if he’s meant to wait for Roxanne to speak first, or—

A loud knock on the apartment door makes both of them jump.

Whoever is outside pauses, waits for a moment—Megamind hopes they’re leaving—and then knocks again, louder, more insistent.

“Hey, Roxy,” Metro Man’s voice comes through the door, booming in the silent apartment, “You ready to go? My mother’s party starts in a little bit.”


	4. Chapter 4

Megamind stops breathing, pressing himself back into the corner of the couch automatically, thinking for a horrible, sickening half-second that Minion was right after all, that this is a trick, all a trick; Roxanne only asked him here tonight so that Metro Man—her boyfriend; he should have known it was too good to be true, what Roxanne said about her and Metro Man not really being together, should have know that this was a trap, but—

But then he looks over at Roxanne who looks—aghast, actually, at hearing Metro Man’s voice. And then her expression morphs into something furious as she glares at the apartment door.

“Are you serious right now, Wayne?” Roxanne says loudly. “What are you doing here; go away!”

Megamind stays perfectly still, trying to breathe silently, wishing his heart wasn’t beating so loud, and watches Roxanne’s face.

Wow, she’s—really mad; Megamind’s glad she’s not looking at him like that, no matter how gorgeous she is with her eyes snapping and her chin up and her lips and cheeks flushed with anger.

Roxanne turns to him and her expression, incredibly, illogically softens as her eyes meet his, as she reaches out to grasp his wrist and mouth the word _stay_.

She—she wants him to stay?

She wants _him_ to _stay_?

Roxanne told Metro Man to go away and she asked Megamind to stay and her hand is on his wrist and she’s looking at him still, as if she’s expecting an answer, and when Megamind nods at her—of course he’ll stay if she wants him to; of course he will—she still doesn’t let go of his wrist.

* * *

 

Roxanne watches Megamind’s face. His expression is one wide-eyed shock, now, but that’s much better than the wide-eyed terror that she saw on his face when he first heard Wayne’s voice, much better than the expression that followed the terror: for a moment, he’d looked—betrayed and disappointed and not surprised at all.

And Roxanne knows exactly what he must have been thinking, knows he must have assumed the worst when Metro Man showed up to their date.

(it catches Roxanne off guard, how much she wants for Megamind to trust her, how much that split-second expression of unsurprised disappointment on his face actually hurts.)

(also, this is. not a date. obviously. obviously not a date.)

“But—but I’m here to pick you up for the party,” Wayne says from the other side of the door and this is it, this is the last goddamn straw.

“I am not going to your mother’s party with you, Wayne,” Roxanne says. “I am not going anywhere with you. I’ll tell you where you can go, though—”

“But you said that you would!”

“Wh—no I did not!” Roxanne says. “I hung up on you when you asked! It doesn’t get much more ‘no’ than that!”

“But you didn’t say no,” Wayne says, voice sulky. “I just figured you were mad.”

“Mad does not even begin to cover it!” Roxanne says, “You had just told me that you weren’t coming with me to my step-sister’s wedding because you didn’t feel like it; oh my god, Wayne, fuck entirely off! ‘Dating’ you was the worst mistake of my life; seven years of sexual dissatisfaction and this is what I get?”

Roxanne hears Megamind make a choking noise beside her on the couch.

“Roxy!” Wayne says, sounding scandalized. “Your neighbors are listening!”

“‘Dating’ you was the worst mistake of my life!” Roxanne shouts at full volume, “Seven years of sexual dissatisfaction!”

Megamind makes another choking noise, this one more like smothered laughter. When she looks over at him, he has his free hand over his mouth, but his eyes are dancing with amusement.

“Roxy! Roxy, let me inside; let’s—talk about this—privately—”

“Seven years!” Roxanne shouts, “seven very. long. years!”

Megamind snickers silently.

“Roxy—”

“You never made me come even once!” Roxanne shouts, watching Megamind’s face, wanting to see if she can keep him laughing.

It works; his eyes go wide, his face blushes behind his hand, and his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. Roxanne grins in spite of the fact that she’s still pretty angry.

(it is, of course, true that Wayne has never made her come, although it’s not true in the way her neighbors will be thinking if they really are listening. Oooh, Roxanne hopes they are; she wants Wayne to squirm.)

Roxanne winks at Megamind, her heartbeat picking up—this is—this is fun, the two of them sharing a secret joke like this.

“I’m coming around to the balcony,” Wayne says and Roxanne feels her eyes go round with horror, Megamind’s face mirroring the expression.

“What—no!” Roxanne shouts, “Wayne, do not come around to the balcony—”

But he doesn’t answer, and—shitshitshit—Roxanne jumps up from the couch, pulling Megamind to his feet, trying to shove him towards the stairs—

“Bedroom; hide in the bedroom—” Roxanne hisses as Megamind pulls her hand in the other direction.

“No, no, watch!” Megamind says in a frantic undertone.

And Roxanne’s about to snap _watch what?_ when Megamind snatches the wristwatch up from the coffee table and straps it on his wrist and—yeah, that’s probably a better plan—

“Megamind,” Wayne says, and Roxanne looks over to her balcony door to see him standing in one of his stupider Heroic Poses.

Beside Roxanne, Megamind—freezes.

There are several seconds of silent stillness.

And that’s—odd; Megamind tends to respond quickly to actual threats. Roxanne looks over at him in confusion, sees the carefully neutral way he’s holding himself, sees the way he’s watching her—why is he—?

“Should have known you were behind this!” Wayne declares.

And Megamind still doesn’t respond right away, doesn’t taunt Wayne about how Roxanne actually invited him, doesn’t gloat or make insinuations, and Roxanne realizes abruptly that—

He’s trying to give her a chance to respond first, to decide which way to play this.

She realizes it a moment too late, though; Megamind pulls her in front of himself, one arm around her waist and the de-gun, suddenly, in his other hand, pressed to her temple.

“It looks like Miss Ritchi’s best efforts to break your heart for your own good were all in vain,” Megamind says with an evil laugh that sounds only slightly forced. “You’ve fallen right into my trap!”

* * *

 

Metro Man looks around the apartment suspiciously, searching for the alleged trap—the entirely nonexistent alleged trap, but what Metro Man didn’t know won’t hurt him. Quite literally won’t hurt him in this case, ha ha ha, ohhh Megamind is so fucked and this is going to be painful—

(worth it, he thinks, remembering Roxanne’s fingers laced with his, remembering her hand on his wrist, remembers her telling him to stay. definitely entirely worth it.)

“My trap which—should be springing at any moment,” Megamind says, letting some of his nerves creep into his voice; if he plays this right, Metro Man should just assume that the ‘trap’ had malfunctioned…

Ah, yes, there’s that smug heroic smirk; the idiot’s bought it.

“Sorry, Megamind,” Metro Man says, “looks like the spring is out of your step.”

“Nonsense! Hope springs eternal!” Megamind declares, a little distracted by the memory of Roxanne’s hand on his wrist, by the reality of her in his arms now.

Shit, that doesn’t sound evil at all, hope springing eternal.

“Evil! Evil hope!” Megamind says, “Springs eternal! It just. Pops right up out of the ground. Like. Daffodils. _Fuck!_ ”

To his consternation, Roxanne makes a smothered noise of amusement.

“Daffodils of—of evil! And—and pain! And—springtime allergy season! _Stop laughing, Miss Ritchi!_ ”

* * *

 

Roxanne chokes down her laughter—daffodils of evil; oh Megamind—and leans her weight back against him.

“It’s okay,” she says, tipping her head back and sideways to look at him, “it’s okay, Megamind; you can stop now.”

All she mostly sees is the line of his jaw; for a very confusing moment, she has the oddest urge to press her lips to it, and then he turns his head to look at her and—wow, he is really close. And. Yes. Very—very close.

Then he lets go of her and steps away, sliding the de-gun back into the holster on his thigh.

Wayne’s eyes dart between the two of them in obvious confusion.

“…are you going to come quietly?” he asks, the manly boom of his voice somewhat spoiled by the note of perplexity.

“Oh, fuck off, Wayne; he’s not going anywhere with you, either,” Roxanne says crossly.

Wayne and Megamind both shoot her looks of surprise—Megamind actually looks more shocked than Wayne, which is saying something.

“But—but he was kidnapping you!” Wayne says.

“No,” Roxanne says, “he wasn’t. He—unlike you, might I add—was actually invited here tonight.”

“Invited,” Wayne repeats.

“Yeah,” Roxanne says, “invited.”

“You invited him,” Wayne says.

“Yeah,” Roxanne says flatly, “I did.”

“Have you been feeling confused, lately, Roxy?” Wayne asks, looking at Megamind suspiciously. “Maybe you have a headache—or there’s a funny noise—or you drank something that tasted weird—or something?”

Megamind clearly catches the insinuation right away; his eyes narrow and his mouth goes flat.

“Oh fuck you,” he snaps, crossing his arms in front of his body, “I don’t do things like that.”

“I invited him,” Roxanne says loudly, “because he is going to do me a favor, Wayne. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Wayne scoffs. Roxanne has to suppress the urge to throw something at him.

“You were the one who gave me the idea, actually, Wayne,” Roxanne says with poisonous sweetness. She raises her eyebrows, “Didn’t you suggest I take someone else to my stepsister’s wedding?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Wayne bursts into laughter. Out of the corner of her gaze, Roxanne sees Megamind flush dully, sees him lift his chin like he’s forcing himself not to drop his eyes in shame and Roxanne’s anger flares again, bright and incandescent, because this is not fucking funny.

Wayne must notice the way she’s glaring at him, because he stops laughing.

“You—aw, come on, Roxy, be real!” he says, “you can’t take him to meet your family. I mean—look at him.”

Roxanne does, makes a point of looking Megamind up and down (his face is turned away from hers; he doesn’t meet her eyes).

“I don’t see anything wrong with him,” Roxanne says.

Megamind turns his head sharply, looking at her, a lavender blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, an expression of utter shock on his face, his eyes round and his lips parted.

(He looks like he’s just been slapped across the mouth, or kissed when he wasn’t expecting it)

“Roxy,” Wayne says, and Roxanne forces herself to look away from Megamind, “he’s a supervillain. You can’t take a supervillain home with you.”

And, okay, maybe that’s a fair point; Roxanne knows that her mother would flip if Roxanne brought Megamind, the supervillain who has kidnapped her for years, to Laura’s wedding—which is why the disguise watch is necessary!

She opens her mouth to tell Wayne that, and then a thought occurs—

—Megamind probably uses the disguise watch, doesn’t he, for—supervillainy things. And maybe that should make Roxanne want to tell Wayne about the watch, but—

(that split-second look of resigned disappointment on Megamind’s face when he thought she led him into a trap—Roxanne never wants him to look at her like that again)

And really, like Wayne needs any more advantages against Megamind. Please. Wayne has invulnerability, eye lasers, superspeed, and he can fly. Roxanne can let Megamind keep a secret holographic watch.

“Lucky for you, Wayne,” Roxanne says, “you don’t need to worry about my family. Megamind and I will manage this just fine. Thanks.”

Megamind is still staring at her, looking shocked.

“…are you doing this because you want me to say I’ll come to the wedding with you?” Wayne asks.

Megamind’s expression goes shuttered at that, like he might actually believe that, like he—

“No,” Roxanne says forcefully. “I am not doing this to get you to do anything, Wayne. Because this is not about you at all. Shockingly, Wayne, not everything is about you.”

“So that’s it, then,” Wayne says, “Megamind is—what, your new fake boyfriend?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Roxanne says, swearing to herself that after this is over with, she is going to go on a real, actual, not-fake date like a reasonable and totally non-crazy adult person who is in no way going to die alone and get eaten by her nonexistent cats.

Just—she just has to get through this wedding.

“And you’re really not coming to the party tonight,” Wayne says, as if this is some sort of terrible betrayal on her part.

“No, Wayne,” Roxanne says, “I’m not.”

Wayne clears his throat and nods stiffly, clenching his jaw—the clear image of a Strong Man Stoic in the Face of Rampant Female Treachery.

And then he shifts his stance to Metro Man’s Stupid Heroic Pose Number Three.

“Well,” he says, “I hate to crash your party, Roxy—but I’m going to have to take your _boyfriend_ here in all the same.”

* * *

 

Megamind twitches slightly at that, hearing Metro Man say _your boyfriend_ to Roxanne about him in that mocking tone.

(as if the very idea is ridiculous, and it is ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean he wants it thrown in his face)

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Roxanne snaps. “Stop being such an asshole; he isn’t doing anything wrong!”

“He’s a supervillain, Roxy,” Metro Man points out in a virtuous tone. “It’s my duty to take him to prison. Of course,” he adds, “I probably wouldn’t have _time_ to capture him if we were busy going to the _party_.”

“You—hypocrite!” Megamind gasps, actually shocked, pointing an accusing finger.

“Extreme hypocrite,” Roxanne says, “double hypocrite. Blackmail, Wayne? That’s what you’re going with?”

“All right, then!” Metro Man says, advancing into the room, “I’ll just arrest him!”

“It’ll be fine,” Megamind says quickly to Roxanne, as she opens her mouth to argue.

(Metro Man looks annoyed; Megamind doesn’t think he would hurt her, but most of his assumptions about that have been based on an erroneous view of Metro Man and Roxanne’s relationship, which—yeah, not worth the risk.)

“It is not fine,” Roxanne says stubbornly. “I asked you for a favor and now you’re getting arrested. It’s not fair.”

(of course, of course she’s not worried about him—personally, specifically. but it’s—nice, anyway, that she’s concerned about unfairness even when he’s the one being affected by it.)

“You can just—owe me twice,” Megamind says lightly, “I’ll be fine. It’s me—in and out before you know it!”

Roxanne shakes her head, lips pressed together, unsmiling.

“Oh, come on,” Metro Man whines, “you guys are making me feel like the bad guy!”

“Yeah, and it sucks, doesn’t it,” Megamind mutters under his breath.

Roxanne gives him an odd look.

“I just need a date to the party!” Metro Man says. “I can’t go by myself; they’re expecting a date; there’ll be questions if I show up by myself! Man, I hate questions!”

Roxanne looks over at him, then glances at Megamind again.

“Fine,” she says, voice tight. “You—fine. I’ll go get dressed.”

Metro Man gives a relieved whoop.

“You—you don’t have to—” Megamind says, honestly feeling a little bit dizzy at—she’s going to—do this, even though she doesn’t want to? Just to—just so—just for him? Nobody ever worries about—

“Stay here,” Roxanne says to him, and turns to go upstairs.

Megamind nods, bewildered, and stays.

* * *

 

Roxanne slams her bedroom door and yanks open her closet, shoving clothing aside. She pulls down a black dress and tosses it on her bed, then gets out a pair of heels: the nicest of the outfits she tried earlier on when she was attempting to decide what to wear to her not-a-date with Megamind.

She wishes she had worn it for him; he’s definitely more worthy of it than stupid Wayne and his mother’s stupid party.

Roxanne dresses rapidly, then quickly applies makeup: dark eyeshadow, darker eyeliner, and crimson lipstick.

* * *

 

“So,” Metro Man says, in the awkward silence that follows Roxanne’s departure up the stairs, “you and Roxy, huh?”

“She doesn’t like to be called that,” Megamind says, folding his arms protectively across his chest.

Metro Man blinks.

“She never told me that,” he says defensively.

Megamind shrugs.

“Well, she told me,” he says. “I asked. Did you ask? Maybe you have to ask.”

(He’s not really sure why that causes Metro Man to flush with annoyance; for once that wasn’t really the reaction Megamind was going for.)

“Maybe she just doesn’t want _you_ to call her that,” Metro Man says.

Megamind glares at him.

Metro Man sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Listen, little buddy,” he says, failing to notice when this makes Megamind glare at him even harder, “I gotta warn you—Roxy’s mother is kiiiiinda a lot to handle. I met her once, for lunch, and—whew, questions; talk about questions. Like. I was sweating by the end of it.”

“Is this you trying to scare me off?” Megamind asks, narrowing his eyes. “If you wanted to go with Roxanne to this wedding yourself, then you should have agreed in the first place.”

(this is mine, he doesn’t say; you can’t have it)

“Whoa, buddy!” Metro Man says, holding up his hands, “No; that’s a big no. Better you than me, as far as this wedding gig goes. I just didn’t feel right letting you walk into this thing blind, you know? Nemesis to nemesis, it’s gonna be rough.”

“Thanks,” Megamind says sarcastically.

(he honestly can’t tell if Metro Man is messing with him or not; best to assume this is some elaborate form of mockery.)

Metro Man frowns and opens his mouth, but luckily at that moment, Roxanne comes down the stairs and Megamind is saved from having to continue the conversation.

(Evil heaven help him, but she is beautiful. Somehow it always seems to catch him off-guard, how very beautiful she is.)

* * *

 

Roxanne stalks towards Megamind, ignoring Wayne entirely.

(Megamind is looking at her; she can’t read his expression, can’t tell if he’s impressed with the dress or not)

“You sure you want to wear that lipstick?” Wayne asks. “It’s a little bright, don’t you think?”

Distantly, Roxanne notes that she is extremely angry, the kind of angry that makes her reckless and stupid and that this is probably Not a Good Thing.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do until she’s already doing it: she stops in front of Megamind, reaches out to put one hand on his chest and one on the side of his face, and then leans forward to kiss him.

Sanity intervenes at the last moment; Roxanne turns her head slightly so that her lips catch his cheek and just the corner of his mouth.

The contact lasts less than a second, but the jolt of sensation that goes through her is like electricity, like grabbing hold of a live wire, a shock that steals her breath, makes her heart seem to stop for a moment in her chest before slamming against her ribcage.

Roxanne pulls away, looks at Megamind—fuck, he really does look like that after he’s been kissed when he wasn’t expecting it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart,” she tells him.

“—ah?” Megamind says blankly.

“Tomorrow,” she says, “remember? Meet me here at ten?”

Megamind blinks at her, looking dazed.

“…tomorrow,” he says, “I—yes, tomorrow; ten; I will—I will see you tomorrow, Roxanne.”

Roxanne steps away and sweeps out of the apartment, not waiting for Wayne to catch up. He does, of course, but it’s—the _point_ still stands.

* * *

 

“Why did you do that?” Wayne asks, when they’re in the back of his limousine, pulling away from the curb of her apartment.

“Do what?” Roxanne says, opening her compact and looking at her own reflection.

“You _kissed_ him,” Wayne says.

(fuck. she did, didn’t she. she definitely kissed Megamind oh god)

“Practice,” Roxanne says, uncapping her lipstick and rolling it up. “I am supposed to be ‘dating’ him, Wayne.”

“You never did that when _we_ were fake-dating,” Wayne says.

“Yeah, well,” Roxanne snaps, not really wanting to examine why she feels so defensive, “I like him a lot more than I like you.”

(Wayne doesn’t say anything after that, and Roxanne is too busy pointedly ignoring him and re-applying her lipstick to notice the thoughtful glance that he gives her.)


	5. Chapter 5

The door closes behind Roxanne and Metro Man; for a moment, Megamind stands in the middle of Roxanne’s living room, stock-still and breathing shallowly.

And then he reaches up with a trembling hand to touch the corner of his own mouth.

His gloved fingertips come away with crimson marks on them—Roxanne’s lipstick, he realizes, his head spinning and his heart fluttering.

Megamind gives a breathless, disbelieving laugh, pressing his other hand against his chest, feeling his heart beat against his palm.

She—Roxanne—

Roxanne kissed him.

She kissed him; she pressed her lips to his skin; Megamind can still feel the phantom pressure of her mouth, of her hands on his face and his chest, but if it wasn’t for the lipstick on his fingertips he wouldn’t be able to believe that it really happened.

The lipstick—

Megamind races over to the mirror that hangs over Roxanne’s kitchen sink and looks into it.

There is a crimson mark on his face in the shape of Roxanne’s mouth, overlapping slightly with the corner of his own lips, irrefutable proof that Roxanne Ritchi kissed him.

Roxanne kissed him and he wasn’t even wearing a different face when she did it; she kissed him while he looked like himself and Megamind has no idea why she did it, but she did and he clutches the edge of the counter to keep from falling as his knees threaten to buckle and his mouth curves up into a wondering, ecstatic, ridiculous smile.

Okay, he tells himself, okay, you—you need to get ahold of yourself; stop swooning like a romance novel heroine, come on, Megamind, come on.

He should—

Okay, he should probably—would it be all right for him to—would it be acceptable for him to check that Roxanne is—all right?

(she had goaded Metro Man rather a lot and although Megamind doesn’t think that the hero will hurt her, the fact remains that Metro Man definitely could hurt her, very easily, and Megamind’s instinct is, as always, never to trust dangerous things around Roxanne unless he’s thoroughly checked the safety precautions himself)

So he can—he can check on her, right? She’d said that she would see him tomorrow, but Megamind needs—

He can—he can check on her. Maybe even—kidnap her? Would she—would she actually want him to do that? It sounds insane, but she hadn’t wanted to go with Metro Man; she had wanted to stay. With Megamind. She went to the party to keep him out of prison, so she won’t appreciate him getting himself caught, but if he manages to get them both away—

All right. Okay. He’ll—see when he gets there. Maybe he can—ask her, somehow, what she wants.

Megamind opens the drawer beside the sink and pulls out a dish towel. He can’t crash the Scotts’ party with Roxanne’s lipstick print on his cheek. No matter how much he’d like to.

(he carefully folds the dishtowel, de-hydrates it, and takes it with him when he climbs up the fire escape to the rooftop of Roxanne’s building, where he left the hoverbike.)

* * *

 

Megamind hides the hoverbike behind the Scotts’ garden shed and takes the miniature smoke bomb from beneath the bike’s seat—good for a quick distraction if he has to leave suddenly.

He lets himself into the Scott mansion through one of the windows on the back of the house, then slips into the hall and moves in the direction that should lead to the front of the house and the party.

He hears someone approaching around the corner, so he quickly ducks into a room, shutting the door.

Behind him, he hears someone makes a strangled gulping noise.

Megamind turns quickly, drawing the de-gun.

A man, dressed in a pair of boxers, has frozen mid-motion in the act of putting on a pair of trousers and is gaping at Megamind, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

“Kindly refrain from screaming,” Megamind tells him.

“…nngh?” the man bleats weakly, eyes bulging.

Megamind notices the clothes the man’s preparing to put on: white button-up shirt, black trousers, black waistcoat, black jacket, and black bowtie—this is the service side of the house; the man is clearly a server for the party.

Ooh, yes! Perfect!

“I don’t suppose,” Megamind says hopefully, “that you’d care to finish getting dressed?”

“…gnnnnuuh?” the man says pathetically.

Megamind sighs.

“No,” he says, “I didn’t think so.”

He scans the man with the disguise watch, then raises the de-gun. The man, seeing this, turns chalk-white and opens his mouth to scream. Megamind dehydrates him before the sound can emerge, and the server falls to the ground as a little blue cube.

Boring conversation anyway.

Megamind turns the dial of the disguise watch and looks down critically at his own image.

Boxer shorts.

Ah, well, nothing for it.

He turns the disguise watch off again and rapidly removes his clothes, putting on the waiter’s abandoned uniform instead.

Once he’s dressed, he turns the disguise watch back on again, the waiter’s features appearing over his own.

He dehydrates his uniform and puts the cube in the pocket of his borrowed trousers, puts the smoke bomb in his other trouser pocket, slides the de-gun into the back of his waistband (not ideal, but the drape of the waiter’s jacket disguises the shape of it), and then, as an afterthought, he takes the waiter’s cube and slips it into the pocket of his waistcoat.

(no telling how long it’ll take someone to find the man if he leaves the cube; Megamind will rehydrate him later)

Megamind resists the urge to pop the collar on his shirt as he steps back out into the hall and moves with affected confidence towards the sound of voices.

* * *

 

Roxanne and Wayne are the last ones to get to the party; it’s already underway when they arrive.

The whole group is in the drawing room, standing around, talking and laughing and having cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Wayne’s mother is, as usual, impeccably attired, as are all of the other women there. They turn to look when Roxanne comes in on Wayne’s arm, and then stare judgmentally at Roxanne’s dress (too short) and her heels (too tall) and her lipstick (too bright).

One of the women, an icy blonde—her name is Eleanor something or other, Roxanne thinks—raises her eyebrows and whispers something in the ear of the woman next to her, both of them staring at Roxanne all the while—and then they both laugh beautiful, tinkling laughs that sound like crystal bells and make Roxanne want to smash something.

A server gives Roxanne a sympathetic look and a flute of champagne; Roxanne gives her a tight, grateful smile in return.

The mayor is in the middle of telling a story to Wayne’s father (who looks, as usual, blandly disinterested) and the district attorney, who is clearly not on his first cocktail of the night.

The chief of police is talking confidentially to a man that Roxanne recognizes as one of the most corrupt (though of course nothing has ever been proven) judges in the city—the man’s real surname is Sludd, but most of the smaller Metro City newspapers (the papers not owned by the Scotts) have taken to calling him Judge Sludge in reference to his dirty politics.

The warden of Metro City’s Prison for the Criminally gifted is standing in a corner, nursing a martini and looking as if he’d rather be literally anywhere else. He doesn’t usually come to these things; he must have been asked to make the numbers of men and women even.

“Wayne, my boy!” Judge Sludd calls across the room in a bluff, hearty voice, “bring your pretty girlfriend over here and introduce her!”

Wonderful.

Roxanne grits her teeth and allows Wayne to lead her over to the man.

“You’re that newscaster gal, aren’t you,” Sludd says. “Cover Wayne’s battle’s with that alien, mostly, don’t you?”

“That’s the way to get ratings!” the police chief says, and then the three men laugh.

Roxanne doesn’t care for Sludd saying ‘that alien’, like Megamind is something not to be mentioned by name in polite society. She also doesn’t care for him implying that all she reports are Megamind and Wayne’s battles, or for the chief of police hinting that Wayne is the only reason KCMP has such good ratings, or for the chummy chuckle that Sludd, the police chief, and Wayne are having at that comment.

“Actually,” Roxanne says to Sludd, with a bright, sharp smile, “I report on a variety of different issues. Perhaps you missed my report two weeks ago on corruption in Metro City’s judiciary system?”

A stunned silence follows, broken only by the warden making a sound remarkably like someone choking on laughter and almost inhaling a martini olive in the process.

Roxanne aims her smile, like a weapon, at the chief of police.

“Oh, but Wayne here does do a fabulous job of helping us all with our careers, doesn’t he? What is it you always call us, Wayne? Oh, yes, ‘the helpless people of Metro City. So flattering, don’t you think? And he’s just so good at stopping crime—one wonders why we even need policemen at all, with Wayne around!”

Roxanne takes a sip of her champagne as the chief of police turns a very interesting color.

“Aw, Roxy,” Wayne says with a self-deprecating grin that only looks a little bit like he’s grinding his perfect toothpaste-ad teeth together, “let’s not get carried away! I don’t do that much, really; mostly I’m pretty busy dealing with Megamind.”

“Can’t blame the girl for not understanding how it all works,” the district attorney says loudly, with an indulgent smile. “It’s not as simple as it seems.”

“How interesting that you should say that,” Roxanne says, “what I find absolutely fascinating isn’t just the fact that Metro City actually has the lowest statistics for violent crimes of any city its size in the country—or the fact that the dramatic crime rate drop-off began around the time that Wayne and Megamind started their public battles—but the fact that there really doesn’t seem to be any correlation between the lowered crime rate and direct mid-crime interventions by Metro Man.”

There is another moment of silence.

“…what is she saying?” the Mayor whispers to Wayne’s father.

“I’m merely agreeing,” Roxanne says, “with Wayne’s very modest declaration that he doesn’t do that much, really.” She flashes another bright smile around the room. “Wayne simply doesn’t stop enough crimes to be a statistically significant factor in the lowered crime rate that I mentioned. Of course,” she continues, “it’s possible that Metro Man’s presence in Metro City is a deterrent to potential criminals in and of itself—which is what I thought, up until you took that three week vacation to Greece last year—do you remember, Wayne?”

“Of course, Roxy,” Wayne says hurriedly, “but I really don’t see what that has to do with—”

“If the lowered crime rate is due to potential criminals being scared of Metro Man,” Roxanne says, “then logically, during Metro Man’s absence from the city, we can expect a spike in criminal activity, yes? But that’s not what happened. There wasn’t any rise in crime while Metro Man was gone.”

“Proof that we need police officers after all!” Wayne says loudly. “Hey, did you guys catch the game tonight? How about that—”

“Except,” Roxanne says, even more loudly than Wayne, “that there wasn’t any increased police presence in the city while you were gone, Wayne. And there haven’t been any major changes in the police force in the past ten years that could account for such a dramatic general drop in crime.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Wayne says with desperate good cheer as a muscle beneath his right eye twitches, “statistics lie! Anyway, about that—”

“However,” Roxanne says, “and here’s what I find really interesting—the start of the crime rate drop ten years ago does coincide with the beginning of Megamind’s career, Wayne, as well as your own. And Megamind was certainly still here while you were in Greece.” She smiles with biting sweetness. “It makes one wonder, doesn’t it, exactly what Megamind does in his spare time.”

In the thunderous silence that follows, Roxanne hears someone behind her take a sharp breath. She turns, and finds herself looking into green eyes.

Megamind, she thinks, a jolt of recognition going through her.

(because it is Megamind, never mind that he’s dressed as a waiter and wearing a different face that looks nothing like his own; nobody but Megamind has eyes like that.)

No one else recognizes him, and Wayne takes advantage of Roxanne’s moment of shocked silence to step in front of her, excluding her from the conversational circle, and begin talking loudly about the game.

“Miss Ritchi,” Megamind murmurs, holding the silver tray in his hands out to Roxanne, and yes, it is definitely him; nobody else says her name like that, “may I offer you an hors d’oeuvre?”

“—what—”

(what are you doing here, she almost says, and then cuts herself off)

“—what are they?” she asks, instead.

“They’re—” Megamind glances down at the tray, then back up into her face, “—I honestly have no idea.”

Roxanne bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

“Chicken pastry things, probably,” she says, voice pitched low, “it’s always chicken pastry things. I’ll pass.”

She looks down at his wrist—yes, there’s the watch, then meets his eyes again and smiles. Megamind’s borrowed face blushes—huh, interesting that carries over to the hologram.

(the blush isn’t nearly as appealing on this face as it is on his real one, for some reason)

“Is—is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Ritchi?” Megamind asks.

Roxanne opens her mouth to tell him no, and then stops, considers.

She’s—she’s pretty sure what Megamind is asking; he wants to know if she wants him to—to get her out of here.

And she really, really does, but—that’s a bit risky (him being here is already pretty risky; why is he—) so probably she shouldn’t—

“Wayne, dear,” Wayne’s mother says, gently reproachful, “what ever took you so long to get here, darling?”

“Oh, I had to wait for Roxy to get ready,” Wayne says, as though he hadn’t shown up to her apartment uninvited and blackmailed her into coming here against her will.

“Women,” Wayne’s father remarks laconically to the Mayor, who laughs like it’s the height of wit.

Eleanor whatshername looks Roxanne’s outfit over again pointedly, and then says, “Really,” to the other women, but just loud enough for Roxanne to hear, and then all of them try to stifle their giggles, as though the thought that Roxanne might have actually taken time over getting dressed like this is absolutely ridiculous.

Roxanne flushes and meets Megamind’s eyes again.

And she nods.

Megamind’s eyes widen slightly—he’s surprised, she thinks, though how he can be, she doesn’t know—and he nods back, a small, almost imperceptible motion.

“I’ll—be through the door,” he says, with odd emphasis, “in just a couple of minutes, Miss Ritchi.”

He turns away, making a businesslike circuit of the room, tray held in one hand. Roxanne, watching him, sees him, with his other hand, take something from the pocket of his trousers and surreptitiously drop it in a potted plant on the far side of the room.

Roxanne takes a breath and starts counting. Be through the door in a couple of minutes, he’d said, and Roxanne had understood that it was meant as an instruction; whatever he’d dropped in the plant is probably a distraction timed to go off in two minutes.

Megamind completes his circuit of the room and slips out the door. Roxanne waits a few more seconds, counting them out, and then walks casually to that side of the room and stands beside a decorative table.

_thirty-five. thirty-six. thirty-seven. thirty—_

Roxanne feels oddly nervous, which is silly; it’s not as if she’s never gotten kidnapped before! Of course, she’s never been an—active participant in the kidnapping before, which is probably why her heart is beating so quickly—

She looks over at the door; it seems so far away, but if she stands any closer it might look strange—

_forty-three. forty-four. forty—_

“Roxy, what are you doing standing by yourself?” Wayne asks, close by, and Roxanne jumps with surprise at the sound of his voice, almost spilling her drink.

“Thanks, Wayne,” Roxanne says with a tight smile, “but I really think I’ve had enough socializing for the night.”

She realizes with dismay that she’s lost count.

And Wayne doesn’t seem to be getting the hint that she wants him to go away now. He frowns at her and steps closer, tries to take her arm. Roxanne jerks her arm away; that’s the last thing she needs, for Metro Man to be already holding onto her when Megamind’s distraction comes.

“I don’t really want to talk to you right now, Wayne,” Roxanne says bluntly, hoping that outright rudeness will get rid of him.

But it doesn’t. He frowns even deeper, stepping closer again, jaw tightening.

“Roxy, you’re embarrassing yourself,” he says in a scandalized undertone.

Roxanne’s anger, which had dissipated slightly beneath her nerves and excitement over Megamind’s promise of escape, comes back full force.

“You know what,” she says, baring her teeth in something that she doubts much resembles a smile, “I’m just going to go home, Wayne.”

She turns towards the door, but Wayne catches her arm, stopping her.

“Roxy—”

“How dare you say that to me, Wayne,” Roxanne says raising her voice, hoping that Megamind will hear her and know not to risk coming to get her.

“What? Say what?!” Wayne asks. “I don’t—”

“I have had it with you, Wayne,” Roxanne says. “Let go of my arm; I’m leaving.”

“You’re making a scene,” Wayne tells her, his tone like he’s addressing a small child throwing a fit in public.

“A _scene_ ,” Roxanne says furiously, “well, heaven fucking forbid that I make a _scene_.”

She tosses the contents of her champagne glass in his face.

Wayne splutters in shock, letting go of her arm.

“What—what is wrong with you?!” he asks. “You just—”

“Seven years of my life,” Roxanne says, setting her empty champagne flute down on the nearby table. “Seven years! Wasted with a self-righteous, narcissistic, boring asshole! I am—I am so angry with myself right now; what the hell was I thinking all this time?!”

“Roxy! Language!”

“Oh fuck off, Wayne,” Roxanne snaps. “God, I am so over this! Being constantly told that I’m not good enough or classy enough or, or nice enough! Go find yourself a fucking debutante, Wayne, because I am done with you.”

A thunderous silence follows.

“Wow,” Megamind’s voice says, and Roxanne turns to see him leaning in the doorway.

He’s wearing his real face now, and a wicked smile, de-gun in hand. He is still, oddly enough, dressed as a server, though he’s ditched the coat and rolled up the sleeves of the shirt. He’s untied the bowtie, as well, and popped up the collar of the shirt he’s wearing.

“Megamind—” Wayne says in his Metro Man voice.

“Great, just what I needed,” Roxanne says, hoping that Megamind will get it, that he’ll listen to the actual words she’s saying and not the sarcastic tone she’s been forced to use. “I am really not in the mood for your games right now, Megamind. I want to go _home_.”

Luckily, Megamind does pick it up.

“Oh, no,” he says, holding up his hands in a playful imitation of surrender (only slightly spoiled by the fact that he’s still holding the de-gun), “no games, Miss Ritchi.”

“Really,” Roxanne says, voice suspicious, wondering if she can get away with edging towards him.

“I did, of course, come here tonight,” Megamind says, straightening up and sauntering casually over to her, “with the intention of kidnapping you and at last defeating your boyfriend—oh, please excuse me—your _ex_ -boyfriend.” He flashes a bright smile. “But you’ve done such a fantastic job of that already; I really don’t think there’s anything left for me to add.”

“…right,” Roxanne says, doing her best to sound thrown off balance, “well—well, good, then. I’m—going home.”

“And may I perhaps offer you a ride, Miss Ritchi?” Megamind asks.

Roxanne takes a sharp breath.

(wow, she thinks, points for style and double points for sheer fucking audacity)

Behind Roxanne, Wayne makes a noise of outrage.

“…no kidnapping?” Roxanne says, narrowing her eyes at Megamind. “No tricks?”

“No kidnapping,” Megamind promises. “No tricks.” He smiles wickedly. “Cross my heart, Miss Ritchi,” he adds, sliding the de-gun into the waistband of his trousers and sketching an X over his chest with one blue finger. “Promise.”

He offers her his arm.

Roxanne, aware of the eyes of the astonished party guests on the two of them, takes it.

“Then yes,” she says, with dignity, “you can give me a ride home.”

The crowd bursts into a flurry of loud, appalled speech.

“Well, really—”

“Always said that girl was—”

“How dare—”

“Shockingly bad—”

“Can’t believe—”

“Really disgusting—”

“You—” Wayne says, advancing on Megamind menacingly, “you always ruin—”

“Oh, honestly, Wayne,” Megamind says scornfully, “You are eventually going to have to stop blaming me for everything!”

Then he quickly reaches up and drops something in the glass of scotch that Wayne is holding—what is—

A mostly naked man erupts, screaming, from Wayne’s glass. Several guests shriek in shock, dropping their own drinks—

—and then the potted plant in the corner explodes in a cloud of thick blue smoke.

By the time the smoke clears enough for the occupants of the room to see more than two inches in front of their own faces, Megamind and Roxanne have disappeared.

“Good party,” the Warden says to a stunned Lord Scott, mustache quivering with suppressed amusement as he shakes the man’s limp hand. “Have to be going home now, though.”

“Wayne,” Lady Scott says sweetly, but with a wrathful glint in her eye, “what did you say to that girl?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” Wayne says, extricating himself with difficulty from the half-naked man who is clinging tightly to him and gibbering now, “I didn’t say anything! I don’t know why this is happening to me! _It’s not my fault!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued.
> 
> notes: 'boring conversation anyway' is a Star Wars quote :)
> 
> Thank you for all of the kudos and reviews! I love them all and they make me so happy!


	6. Chapter 6

Roxanne, her hand in Megamind’s, lets him pull her along as they run across the expanse of the mansion’s lawn, both of them laughing.

Roxanne’s high heels sink into the soft ground; she almost twists an ankle but Megamind catches her when she stumbles. She yanks off her shoes, both of them still laughing, and then they’re running again, the grass wet and cool beneath Roxanne’s bare feet, the night air and the moonlight and the stars overhead making her feel reckless and weightless and wild.

Megamind leads her behind a shed, where there’s a—

“What is that?” Roxanne asks.

It’s—it sort of looks like a motorcycle? But there don’t seem to be any wheels—

She gasps.

“Oh my god, Megamind, is that a _flying motorcycle?_ ” she asks.

Megamind swings his leg over the seat and grins at her.

“Still want that ride, Miss Ritchi?” he asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Roxanne says eagerly, and climbs on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Megamind laughs and the bike roars to life, and Roxanne finds that she is laughing again, too, as Megamind pulls the bike up into the air.

The wind rushes past her, tangling with her hair, mingling with the sound of the bike’s engine, making her heartbeat race. They fly over the rooftop of the mansion, and over the manicured front lawn, towards the electric lights of the heart of the city.

“Straight home, Miss Ritchi?” Megamind shouts over the roar of the engine and the wind, turning his head slightly over his shoulder towards her.

“No!” Roxanne shouts back without thinking.

Megamind turns his head a little more towards her, looking surprised.

(Roxanne—she doesn’t want to go home yet; this is fun, she wants—)

“I’m hungry!” she says, hitting on a reasonable excuse, “are you hungry? Let’s eat something!”

(a reasonable and _truthful_ excuse; she hasn’t had dinner; they left the Scotts’ too early, and she really _is_ hungry.)

“—all right,” Megamind shouts, sounding surprised, but not unhappy, and pulls the bike in a wide arc to the left.

The bike flies through the city, around buildings and over street lamps. Megamind lands in an alleyway and cuts the engine. He climbs off the bike and waits for Roxanne to slip her shoes on again before holding out his hand to help her off the bike.

“That,” Roxanne says, grinning, her hand still in Megamind’s, “was _amazing_.”

Megamind flushes, dropping her hand. He smiles at her in a way that seems almost shy.

“I thought you’d like the hoverbike,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” Roxanne says, linking her arm with his.

Megamind freezes for a moment, eyes going wide.

“So,” she continues, “what are we eating?” 

“Ah, well—I—I don’t know if you’ll—” Megamind says, looking hesitant, “—I mean, I’m not sure you’ll like it—we can go somewhere else if you—”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Roxanne says, bumping her shoulder companionably into his, “come, on; lead the way.”

“Are you—” Megamind bites his lip. “I mean—wouldn’t you—rather wait here? There will probably be—people…”

Roxanne hesitates.

It probably _would_ be smarter, wouldn't it, to wait by the hoverbike, to avoid being seen with Megamind. Or to suggest that he use the holowatch.

(Megamind’s face when Wayne said _I mean **look** at him_ and _you can’t take a supervillain home_ , and oh to hell with it; everyone at the party already saw her leave with him and Roxanne is still feeling reckless and wild and—)

“No,” Roxanne says lightly, “I want to come with you.”

Megamind stares at her, his lips parting for a moment, as if he’s going to say something, and then he closes his mouth again and swallows.

“All—all right,” he says, “well,” he clears his throat, “this way, Miss Ritchi.”

“Roxanne,” she reminds him.

“—Roxanne,” Megamind says, and Roxanne—wow, she still isn’t used to hearing him say her name.

Megamind leads the way down the alley and into a side street.

There’s a small crowd gathered on the sidewalk around the cart of a street vendor. Roxanne is prepared for Megamind’s appearance to start a panic, but oddly enough, everyone seems unsurprised at seeing him, though the crowd parts before him to let him pass.

It’s _Roxanne_ , actually, that causes the people to double-take, and then to either watch her out of the corners of their eyes, or to stare openly.

Roxanne feels her face go hot, but she lifts her chin and keeps her arm in Megamind’s as they move through the crowd and up to the cart.

The vendor is selling some sort of noodles, though Roxanne only knows that because some of the surrounding crowd members are holding cartons and eating out of them; there isn’t any menu board.

(One man in the crowd appears to be so amazed, still, by Roxanne, that he has stopped with his chopsticks halfway to his open mouth, noodles suspended in midair. The woman standing beside him sees Roxanne looking back and flushes, then not-so-surreptitiously kicks her staring companion in the ankle, making him yelp. She hisses something to him in an undertone and in a language that Roxanne doesn’t recognize.)

Megamind is talking to the vendor in the same language—

—it actually seems to be a—friendly conversation?

That is interesting; Roxanne watches both their faces and wishes she could understand what they’re saying.

The vendor finishes stir-frying their order and hands Megamind two cartons filled with noodles. Megamind gives him a nod and turns away.

Roxanne hesitates for a moment, then opens her purse.

“I can pay,” she says.

Megamind gives her a surprised glance.

“Oh,” he says, “no, that’s—that’s all right; I actually—I have a tab, here.”

_Ah_ , Roxanne thinks, _so that’s why he didn’t suggest using the disguise watch._

She follows him back into the alleyway and he puts the cartons carefully in the saddlebag of the hoverbike, then climbs onto the seat. Roxanne gets on behind him again.

(she thinks he notices, this time, the way her skirt rides up when she throws her leg over the seat of the bike, because his eyes go round and he looks away quickly, blushing.)

When she’s settled on the bike, though, he turns to look over his shoulder at her.

(his eyes are so intensely green, even in the deceptive half-light of the flickering street lamp at the mouth of the alley, and his ears and cheekbones are still faintly tinged with pink.)

“Miss Ri—Roxanne—” he says, and then stops.

Roxanne wraps her arms around his waist.

“Yes?” she prompts, when he takes a sharp breath but doesn’t say anything.

“—may I—may I take you somewhere?” he asks hesitantly. “I don’t mean—I don’t mean—back to your apartment. I mean. Somewhere—somewhere else. A surprise.”

Roxanne thinks about making a joke, then, thinks about telling him _you’ve taken me lots of places as a surprise before and you’ve never asked_. But somehow, she finds she doesn’t really want to, not with Megamind looking at her like that, like he’s sure she’s going to laugh at him, or tell him no, or both, his head held like he’s ready to stop himself from flinching, his eyes already apologetic.

“Sure,” she says, and smiles at him, “surprise me.”

Megamind’s face lights up, something like wonder in his expression.

“Really?” he says.

Roxanne laughs gently.

“Yeah,” she says. “You can take me wherever you want, Megamind.”

Megamind takes a breath.

“Close your eyes then, Roxanne,” he says softly.

Roxanne closes her eyes, then raises her eyebrows expectantly. Megamind laughs.

“And no peeking,” he admonishes.

Roxanne gives a gasp of pretended outrage.

“I would never!” she says.

Megamind laughs again.

“Nosy reporter,” he says, and it sounds more like an endearment than an insult.

“Supervillain,” Roxanne says, and that sounds more like an endearment than an insult, somehow, too.

Megamind laughs a third time and the bike thunders to life beneath them.

“Hang on,” he tells her, and she tightens her arms around his waist, and then the bike roars upwards into the air again.

It is—uniquely exhilarating, flying like this, with her eyes closed—exhilarating, but somehow not frightening at all, pressed close to Megamind, her arms around his waist and her cheek against his shoulder.

He takes one hand from the handlebars of the bike and puts his hand over hers, around his waist, anchoring her there.

Roxanne smiles, face against Megamind’s shoulder.

Of course she’s not afraid. This is Megamind. He’s never going to let her fall.

The bike flies on through the city, cool night air whipping past Roxanne’s face, making her shiver as Megamind’s hand tightens over her wrist. Eyes still closed (she isn’t going to peek, no matter what Megamind might think), she wonders where he’s taking her.

(He takes her to the library.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos! You are lovely people, dear readers <3


	7. Chapter 7

Megamind helps Roxanne off of the hoverbike, her eyes still closed. He’s more than a little amazed at that, at the way she evidently trusts him enough to let him guide her off of the bike and then lead her forward without her opening her eyes. She stands patiently as he picks the lock on the library door, too, eyes unopened, and when he takes her arm to lead her inside, she again lets him do it with no hesitation at all.

He brings her to the center of the library, stops, then steps away, wanting to watch her expression.

“Open your eyes,” he says, voice soft.

She does.

And oh, Megamind is going to remember that expression forever: Roxanne’s face lighting up with surprise and pleasure as she sees where he’s brought her. She laughs, the sound echoing beautifully through the empty library, and then she turns to him, grinning, eyebrows raised.

He shrugs, biting his lip as he smiles back.

“You did say you wanted me to bring you here someday,” he says.

Roxanne laughs again.

“I did, didn’t I?” she says.

Megamind smiles a little wider.

They eat at one of the reading tables; the noodles, Roxanne does not hesitate to point out, are amazing. Megamind looks incredibly pleased when she says that, ducking his head a little shyly.

“—so,” Roxanne says, watching the chopsticks in his long blue fingers (such a small thing to find fascinating, the sight of Megamind’s bare hands) “—what is it that I owe you, then?”

Megamind looks up at her, his expression puzzled.

“For the noodles?” he asks. “It’s—really not a big deal, Miss Ri—Roxanne. They’re not exactly expensive.”

“No,” Roxanne says, “I mean—” she gestures, waving her own chopsticks, “I mean, for the favor. You—earlier, when Wayne was talking about arresting you, you said I could owe you twice—which made me realize that we never did talk about…what I was going to owe you…?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Megamind says, looking almost—disgusted? Horrified? “That—that was a joke.”

Roxanne blinks in surprise.

“Seriously?” she says in disbelief. “You don’t—want me to—”

“I’m interested—in going to this wedding,” Megamind says, shoulders hunching a little, looking uncomfortable. “I’ve never been to a—it’s not a favor. I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t interested, Roxanne.”

Roxanne blinks again.

“…you’re interested in weddings?” she asks.

Megamind frowns.

“Well—well, yes, of course!” he says. “I’ve never been to one; the entire ritual of it is really quite fascinating! The opportunity to experience one firsthand is something that I—you’re laughing at me.”

“No, no!” Roxanne says.

Megamind grimaces.

“—I mean, yeah, but not in a bad way,” she tries to explain, “I just—I wasn’t expecting you to be interested, you know? I always figured that you reserved that kind of enthusiasm for—science. And things that explode. But—it’s—it’s nice! That you’re interested.”

Megamind, watching her face, must see that she means it, because the tension in his shoulders relaxes very slightly.

“It’s nice to be—doing things with someone who’s interested,” Roxanne continues. “I guess I’m just not used to it anymore, you know?” She makes a face. “…Wayne was a really bad fake boyfriend,” she adds, that fact fully sinking in for the first time.

Megamind gives a surprised sort of laugh and she glances up at him. Uncertainty flashes in his face, so she smiles at him reassuringly to let him know she’s not offended. He relaxes a little bit more.

“Really, really bad,” she says earnestly. “Like—so bad, Megamind.”

She sees him struggling not to smile.

“Could be worse,” he says, voice just a little hesitant.

Roxanne looks at him in inquiry.

“You could have actually been dating him,” he says.

She laughs, throwing her head back.

“Oh, my god; don’t even talk like that!” Roxanne says.

She looks at Megamind; he’s watching her, grinning.

“I already feel stupid enough just for pretending for so long,” she says with a theatrical shiver.

“Yes,” he says, “I certainly revised my own mental estimate of your intelligence sharply upwards when I learned you weren’t with him.”

Roxanne laughs.

“I mean, I always knew you were smart, so that particular error of judgment was eternally baffling to me!” he continues. “So pleasing to finally have it explained.”

Roxanne jerks a little in her chair. Megamind thinks she’s smart? Or—no, he’s probably just joking—

He tilts his head curiously.

“Really, though, why did you pretend to date him?” Megamind asks. “I’ve been trying to figure it out—it— doesn’t really make sense to me?”

Roxanne groans.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says.

(wow, Roxanne, she thinks caustically at herself; what an answer. if he did really think you were smart, before, you’ve certainly cured him of that notion)

“I just—” she puts down her chopsticks and rakes her fingers through her hair. “Well—okay, so it started out—actually, you were the one who started it!” she says, voice a little accusing.

Megamind looks startled.

“What? Me?” he says.

“Mm-hm,” Roxanne says. “The—what was it, like the second or third time you kidnapped me? You called me ‘Metro Man’s paramour’, and I remember I’d never actually heard someone say that word out loud in an unironic manner before—”

“The third time,” Megamind says.

“What?”

He’s staring at her, an expression on his face that Roxanne can’t read.

“That was the third time I kidnapped you. Unless we aren’t counting the first time, since I only got like ten seconds into that abduction before I got set on fire. Does that count? I can’t decide if that counts or not.”

“Uh,” Roxanne says, laughing a little uncertainly, “I mean—I, personally--count it?”

This is a really weird conversation. This is a really weird situation, in general. She just broke into the library with Megamind and now they’re eating noodles and debating the semantics of kidnapping.

It’s really strange that she doesn’t feel more uncomfortable. That this doesn’t feel—this doesn’t feel wrong, and it should. It should feel very wrong, this wild deviation from the normal pattern of her and Megamind’s interactions. This entire night should feel weird to her. But it doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels—

She feels—

“—why did you kiss me, before?” Megamind asks abruptly, and Roxanne blinks.

“Well, because I—”

(wanted to)

She nearly bites her own tongue off.

Because—

Because she’d wanted to.

She—she’d wanted to kiss him.

Roxanne stares at Megamind, aghast.

He looks back at her from across the table, frowning slightly, all puzzled green eyes and the long line of his blue throat, the untied bowtie draped negligently around the collar of his stolen shirt and oh god no wonder she was so fascinated by the sight of his bare hands—

She’d wanted to kiss him.

She—she wants to do it again.

Wants to kiss him properly this time, wants to grab his collar and drag him forwards over the tabletop and kiss him until he’s breathless, wants—

The realization hits her in a split second of oh no oh no, in the space of a heartbeat, in the time between one blink and the next.

“—I thought we should practice,” she says, lips feeling numb.

Megamind tilts his head, frown deepening.

(oh god oh god)

“Practice?”

“Yeah, you know,” Roxanne says, and maybe her voice is a little too bright and brittle, maybe the words come a little too fast, but she is trying not to panic here. “Practice. Since we’re supposed to be dating, and we’ve got to be convincing. And you don’t really seem used to casual touching, so I thought it would be good to practice. That.”

“—practice,” Megamind says. “Of—yes, of course.”

Roxanne smiles and congratulates herself on not running screaming into the bookshelves.

“Right,” she says, “Practice! Practice is good, yep—”

Oh god, she’s babbling—

She crams a bite of noodles swiftly in her mouth to stop herself from talking.

Megamind looks down at his carton of noodles blankly.

Practice. Of course it was for practice. She is clearly entirely unaffected by the whole—it had just been for practice. It had been stupid to even ask. Any normal person would have known that, already.

He clears his throat.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he says, giving Roxanne a quick smile that he hopes doesn’t look as false as it feels, “I—interrupted; that was rude.”

“Interrupted?”

“You were—telling me about—”

“Oh! About—pretending to date Wayne, right,” Roxanne says, “Yeah, well—you—that kidnapping, you implied that we must be together, and so after he rescued me, that time, we both—laughed about that. Because—I mean, we’d only met a few times; we barely knew each other, and suddenly everybody was acting like we were some—celebrity couple.”

She shrugs.

“And people just kept assuming things, you know? And one day I mentioned that my mother was driving me crazy about getting a boyfriend, and Wayne said his mother was pressuring him, too, wanting him to bring girls to her parties, and we both talked about how it was inconvenient. And I said, as a joke—‘hey, the next time you have a party, I can be your fake date, and we can get both our mothers off our backs…’ and—and at first, it was pretty okay; I got to talk to lots of important people, and tricking everyone was sort of fun. But…”

Roxanne grimaces.

“…after a while, I got tired of it. But it was still easier than pretending to break up, and having to talk to people about it, and act like I was upset and deal with all of that and I felt bad leaving Wayne high and dry just because I was tired of it and—god, I really am stupid, aren’t I?”

“No, no!” Megamind says.

Roxanne makes a face that says she is deeply unconvinced.

“I—I mean—” Megamind waves a hand, “I can definitely understand the way things just sort of—I understand getting used to things that aren’t—really what you want, and just accepting them because you feel like you have to, or you don’t know how to change them, or if it would even be worth it to try…”

Roxanne looks at him uncertainly. He shakes his head.

“You’re not stupid, Roxanne,” he says. “I mean—just for example, what you did, back at the party? That was amazing.”

She laughs.

“I’m serious! The way you just—verbally decimated that entire roomful of people—that was the most intellectually gratifying thing that it has ever been my pleasure to witness. Are you sure you don’t want to be Evil Queen?”

Roxanne laughs again.

“Sorry, I think it’d probably be too much work for me,” she says.

Megamind leans forward, waving both hands now in his excitement.

“And that!” he exclaims. “You figuring that out, about my management of Metrocity’s criminal underworld! That’s amazing, too!”

Roxanne gives him an odd look.

“Really?” she says. “You’re not—upset? I mean…I wasn’t really planning on you hearing me talk about that; I always assumed you’d be mad, if you found out that I’d figured out your whole—what you’re doing, with the underworld.”

Megamind looks at her, leaning across the table.

“Of course I’m not—I am—nothing but impressed. You are very intelligent, Roxanne; never doubt it.”

“—thank you,” Roxanne says, biting her lip, and oh—Megamind probably got a little—too intense there, didn’t he—

(change the subject; change the subject)

“A-anyway! I’m finished eating now; are you finished? I’ve got something to show you that I think you might find interesting!”

Roxanne blinks, then pushes her carton of noodles away.

“Okay,” she says, “show me.”

(shit. now he actually has to think of something to show her.)

“—right! Yes, okay, um—yes.”

Megamind stalls for time by dehydrating the remains of their meal and throwing the cubes in the trash. They take up less room, like that, and this way no one will notice the smell of the food and start wondering who was eating in the library after hours.

He’s thinking rapidly, the whole time he’s cleaning up; by the time he’s finished, he has a plan—

It’s—it’s a pretty good plan, too! Roxanne might really find this interesting…

Roxanne follows Megamind up the stairs to the second floor, and then the third, their footsteps echoing in the dim, empty library. (she tells herself that her heart is only pounding this hard because of the climbing, but she can’t quite make herself believe it.)

The third floor is the children’s section; the walls are painted a bright, cheerful sky blue, the carpet worn down in the middle of the halls. Megamind leads her into the maze of shelves, his fingertips trailing affectionately along the spines of the books. Roxanne, watching the gesture, watching his hands, feels herself flush hot. She looks away quickly.

He leads her through the reading area, with its beanbags and its wooden blocks and its miniature chairs in primary colors, and then back into the shelves. Finally, in a dusty corner, they come to a door. It says ‘authorized personnel only, and when Megamind opens it, there’s a low gate across the bottom of the doorway. He steps over this and turns back towards her, holding out his hand.

There’s a smile—his excited, I-have-a-clever-new-invention-to-show-off smile—curving the edges of his mouth up, and his eyes are almost glowing with excitement, and at the sight of his expression, Roxanne’s stomach flips over in an entirely unfair way.

She raises her eyebrows, feeling an answering smile pulling at her own lips (how is she supposed to keep from smiling back at him, when he’s looking at her like that, how), and takes his hand, letting him help her step over the gate.

The doorway leads to another stairwell, this one darker and clearly less used than the main staircases. It’s shorter, too; it only turns twice and then—

Roxanne blinks in surprise.

The landing at the top of the stairs ends in another door, this one painted a chipped, peeling turquoise color.

There’s—a brass knocker beside it, and Roxanne reaches out to touch it with an oddly thrilling sensation of unreality.

Megamind’s fingers, manipulating a set of lockpicks, have already opened the lock. The door swings open, creaking.

He grins at her, smile wide and eyes sparkling.

“Come on,” he says. “Let me show you.”

Roxanne steps through the door.

And into—

She turns into a circle, staring.

(—like stepping through the wardrobe into Narnia—)

“This is the old custodial apartment,” Megamind says.

“Custodial apartment?” Roxanne asks.

“Yes, you see—when the library was built, it used coal furnaces for heating, so there had to be someone in the building all of the time, to keep them going.”

Roxanne reaches out to touch the wainscoting on the entranceway wall. She walks forward into the hall, looking around in wonder. How did she never know this was here?

To the left is what she’s assuming is the empty living room; beyond that, she thinks, is a bedroom. To the right is a kitchen. She walks inside.

“Of course,” Megamind says, “when they remodeled the library and updated the heating, they didn’t need anyone to stay here, anymore. So they just closed the apartment up.”

“Is this where you lived?” Roxanne asks. “When you lived in the library?”

There’s a formica-topped table in the kitchen, its top covered by dust. The countertop is formica, too, and the cabinets are whitewashed.

“Unfortunately, no,” Megamind says. “Minion and I had planned to, originally, but we found out that the janitors still come up here periodically, to check that everything’s still in order. So we had to sleep in the attic, instead.”

The walls of the kitchen are covered in what was probably once a cheerfully patterned wallpaper. It’s torn and peeling and discolored around the edges now. Roxanne reaches out to trace to flowers on it: blue cornflowers and scarlet poppies.

“We did spend a lot of time down here, though,” Megamind says. “Especially Minion, and especially in the kitchen. He loved that wallpaper, by the way.”

Roxanne glances at Megamind. He smiles and shakes his head.

“When we moved, I tried to find a reproduction of the pattern for the kitchen in the Lair, but they’d discontinued the paper years before. I ended up having to replicate it myself, instead, which was quite the learning experience—um. Why are you looking at me like that?”   
Roxanne quickly looks away, terrified of what might have been showing in her face.

“Sorry, it’s just—that’s really—it’s really great, that you remembered that, for him.”   
She risks a glance at Megamind’s face; he’s looking at her with a puzzled expression, a line between his eyebrows.

“…I have a photographic memory; I don’t think my remembering it was all that impressive,” he says, voice confused.

“No, I mean—” Roxanne shakes her head and pulls her hand away from the wallpaper, fingers curling inwards towards her palms. She can feel dust on her fingertips. “—I mean, it’s—nice. That you thought it was worth the trouble, to get him something he’d said he liked…”

Megamind looks at her even more uncertainly.

“Well, I care about Minion a lot,” he says. “So—of—of course I wanted to give him something he’d said he wanted.”

Roxanne looks at him sidelong with a smile.

“Not exactly supervillain behavior,” she says. “Caring about your minions.”

Megamind is the one to glance away this time, his expression uncomfortable.

“Minion is family,” he says. “And—I think we both know that I’m pretty terrible at being a supervillain, Roxanne.”

“No you’re not,” Roxanne says, without thinking.

The look that Megamind gives her is one of sheer disbelief.

“Oh, come on, Miss Ritchi; you’ve quite literally spent years publicly disparaging my competence as a supervillain! I have dozens of examples of your criticism on film; there’s no need to start being dishonest with me now.”

“That’s not what I—I was talking, actually, about the way that you manage crime in the underworld!” Roxanne says, stung by his tone. “But yeah, if we’re being honest, I do think all of the—comic book shenanigans you go through with Wayne are pretty stupid!”

“Thank you so much for your opinion,” Megamind says bitingly.

“It’s a waste of your time, Megamind!” she bursts out in frustration. “Why can’t you see that?! How can somebody so smart be so damn stupid about this? You could do anything, Megamind! Why the hell are you doing this?”

“Someone has to!” Megamind snaps.

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t be flippant with me,” Roxanne says, voice icy. “You don’t have to care what I think but—”

“I’m not being—!” Megamind stops, presses his lips together hard, nostrils flaring. “I’m not being flippant with you,” he says, clearly controlling his tone with an effort. “I am perfectly serious, Miss Ritchi. Someone has to entertain your—Metro Man. Otherwise he is going to go around attacking ordinary criminals. People who don’t have—my capacity for—bouncing back, shall we say? So maybe it seems like a waste of time to you, but I am doing it for a reason, Miss Ritchi, and—”

He cuts himself off, looking away from her, his jaw tightening as he clenches his teeth.

“…oh,” Roxanne says.

Megamind gives a short, frustrated kind of laugh and rubs his hand over his face. He looks up at her wryly through his fingers.

“Evil gods, you—definitely have some sort of supernatural gift for getting people to reveal information,” he says. “Some sort of—jedi mind magic or something. Completely unfair.”

“—nosy reporter skills,” Roxanne says, a little awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s—a gift.”

He laughs again, a more real-sounding laugh, and drops his hand from his face.

“Yes,” he says. “It is.”

He glances away and she sees him swallow, the muscles of his throat working. He looks back at her and smiles.

“Anyway,” he says, with a cheerfulness that only sounds slightly forced. “Want to see the attic?”

Roxanne is quieter than she usually is, as he’s showing her the attic.

She does protest that she’s not sure the floorboards will hold her weight when he climbs up on the counter and pushes the trapdoor in the ceiling open. Megamind rolls his eyes and points out that Minion used to climb up here in his suit, and tells her it’ll be fine. He lifts her up and helps her through the trapdoor and does not look at the way her dress rides up her thighs.

He pulls himself up after her. Roxanne has already moved over to the wall; she’s running her fingertips over the graffiti—equations and doodles and mechanical blueprints that he put there, years ago.

The attic is just as small as he remembers—it’s bigger than an average prison cell, but the way the roof slants means that you can only stand upright when you’re in the center of the room.

It’s empty, too; when Megamind and Minion left, they took everything of use or sentimental value with them, except for the notes on the walls.

(It was stupid, wasn’t it. Bringing Roxanne up here. There’s nothing here that she’ll find interesting.)

Roxanne rubs her thumb over a sketch he made of the first design of the brainbots.

Megamind looks down at the floor.

He shouldn’t have brought her here. He shouldn’t have shouted at her when she’d tried to lie to him about not thinking he was a failure. She’d been trying to be kind.

This is the reason people aren’t nice to you, Megamind, he tells himself. You make it impossible.

“Hey,” Roxanne says.

He looks up at her. She’s standing closer than he expected, one arm crossed over her body as she bites her lip, looking uncomfortable.

“—sorry,” she says.

Megamind stares at her.

Sorry? What is she—?

“For—for being—so critical. About the supervillain thing. And just in general. You can probably tell by now why I don’t have a real boyfriend.”

“—no, I can’t,” Megamind says, with perfect honesty.

Roxanne gives him a weird look, like she’s trying to figure out if he’s joking.

“…I just—it’s just frustrating,” she says. “Because you—you deserve better.”

Megamind feels his mouth fall open in shock. Roxanne looks away from him, wrapping her other arm around herself now, too.

“That’s—um—thank you,” he manages to stammer out, “for—for thinking that.”

Deserves better? Deserves—people have told him that he deserves a lot of things, but no one has ever told him that he deserves better.

Does she—does she really mean that?

Roxanne looks at him again, gives him a soft, uncertain smile, and Megamind realizes, much to his own astonishment, that he thinks maybe she does.

Megamind pauses by the free book table, on their way out. He seems drawn there, actually, like a nail to a magnet. First he glances over at the books, then he glances away—then he looks a little longer, before looking away…then his steps just sort of…curve casually in that direction, until he ends up at the book table, seemingly by accident.

Roxanne has to put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. Oh god; he’s adorable, what is she going to do?

Megamind gives an excited exclamation as he uncovers one particular book from the pile of its brethren. Roxanne looks over from her own search through the offerings to glance at the cover of the book that has Megamind so pleased, and her eyebrows go up in surprise.

There’s a picture of a woman in a violently purple dress on the front of the book. Well—she’s sort of in the dress. For a given value of ‘in the dress’. There’s a man standing behind her in an awkward pose, his puffy white pirate shirt open to the navel, his long hair flowing in the wind.

The title of the book—Shy Violet—is in silver foil.

Roxanne’s eyebrows climb a little higher as she looks again at the picture of the woman half-in and half-out of the violently purple dress. She does not appear, to Roxanne’s eyes, to be noticeably suffering from any excess of shyness.

Megamind runs his thumb over the pages; Roxanne looks at his expression. Is he making a joke?

(oh god, is it a joke about Roxanne’s own reading tastes; has he seen her collection of erotica; would he have noticed that, during a kidnapping?)

“Can’t believe they’re giving you away,” Megamind murmurs. “I’m glad I found you before anyone else—”

Is—is he talking to the book?

“Do I need to give you two a moment alone?” Roxanne asks.

Megamind glances up at her sharply, as if he’s just remembered she’s here, a blush staining his ears and cheekbones.

“Wh—oh, um—” he clears his throat awkwardly, his eyes darting guiltily down at the book in his hands.

Roxanne reaches out to tip the book in his hands towards herself. There’s clearly a moment where Megamind fights with the instinct to try to hide it, but in the end he lets her look.

“Huh, I don’t think I’ve read this one,” she says.

She looks up at Megamind; his eyes are very wide.

“—oh—oh! Well—it’s—it’s really quite—it’s one of my favorites. Um. Actually,” he says.

“Really?” Roxanne says. “Is it part of a series, or a standalone?”

“A—a series,” Megamind says, watching her face like he’s waiting for her to start laughing, “but all the books focus on different characters, so you don’t really have to read them in order…”

“Nice; I always like that,” Roxanne says, trying to put Megamind more at ease.

(the blush is unspeakably cute, but the wary look in his eyes sort of hurts her heart. she wants him to trust her.)

(oh fuck; she is in trouble, here)

“Do you see any other books from the series?” she asks, keeping her voice casual. “If you think it’s good, I’ll definitely give it a try.”

Megamind licks his lips, looking completely nonplussed.

“Um—let me—let me look,” he says.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued.
> 
> thank you for all of the comments, everyone! Elotaria, the part with the custodial apartments was inspired by the link you sent me in a review for Code: Safeword.
> 
> (today is the last day of Set’s hobbit-style birthday week! I hope you all have enjoyed the daily fic updates! I’m so glad I’ve gotten to share my birthday with you all!)


	8. Chapter 8

The free book table doesn’t hold any more books from the series Megamind likes so much, but he does find her a different romance book that he says is good, too. He looks a little wary, still, as he hands it to her, but when she smiles and thanks him, his lips curve up in answer, his eyes lighting up.

The flight back to her apartment is a special kind of torture for Roxanne. She’s pressed so close to Megamind, her arms around him, her legs on either side of his hips, and the darkness, the sound of the engines, the way that they’re the only ones in the sky—it all feels incredibly intimate in a way that sets Roxanne’s heart to racing, makes her stomach flutter and swoop.

(she is so very aware of all the places that their bodies are touching and half of her mind is filled with mental screaming and the other half is frantically wishing that the flight never ends)

It does, though, eventually, end; Megamind lands the hoverbike on her balcony, cuts the engine, and helps her off the bike.

They stand there for a long moment, the sudden silence very loud around them.

Abruptly, Roxanne realizes that she’s still holding Megamind’s hand, that she’s been holding it for an awkwardly long amount of time. She drops it quickly.

Megamind pulls his hand back as though she’s burned it, flexes his fingers like he’s checking that they’re all still there.

“So—”

“Um—”

They both speak at the same time, then stop.

“Sorry—ah—” Megamind waves at her to continue.

“No, no, you go first—”

“Um,” he says again, the fingers of the hand she touched making small, nervous motions at his side, “I was—just wondering what sort of—casual. touching. we were talking about…you know, with the, ah—practice and—convincing. Because. I mean. I’ve never—I don’t really do this sort of…”

He looks incredibly uncomfortable about this, Roxanne realizes with a sinking heart. Oh no.

It was wrong; it was wrong to ask him for this. the fact that she evidently has this—thing—for him makes it even more wrong.

(I don’t really do this. I’ve never.)

“Wait, never, never?” Roxanne blurts out, and Megamind winces, glancing away from her.

(he looks even more uncomfortable now oh no)

“No,” he mutters.

“—um—o-okay; that’s—okay!” Roxanne says quickly. “So I was—the—touching thing, right, um—hugs? And—holding hands, and—sitting together on the couch…also maybe kissing if you’re okay with it,” she adds in a rush because she is a terrible person with no self-control.

Megamind’s head jerks up, his eyes flying to hers.

The lights of her living room are shining through the glass doors, casting Megamind’s face half in light and half in shadow, and his ears and cheekbones are glowing almost fuchsia as he blushes.

“I—you—”

“Only if you’re okay with it, though,” Roxanne repeats quickly.

Megamind gulps visibly, his long throat working.

“I—um—yes; I—yes,” he stammers. “That’s—yes.”

“—right!” Roxanne says, with a bright, half-panicked laugh. “I mean, it’s not like it’s a—big deal, right; it’s just acting, so it’s not like it matters!”

“—of—yes. Of course. Right, yes; right—” Megamind agrees.

“Right! So. Um—” Roxanne hesitates. “—do you—want to—now?”

“N-now?” Megamind says, his eyes absolutely enormous.

Roxanne gives another bright laugh, this one edging even closer to panic.

“Yeah, I mean, this is, like, our—fake—first date, right? And a kiss at the end of the first date is kind of tradition, so…”

“O-okay,” Megamind says, “I—um…I don’t. Know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Ah—right,” Roxanne says (he said he’d never done this sort of thing before, had he really meant none of it, ever? hasn’t he ever wanted—?)

“Maybe it’ll—be easier if I kiss you,” she says. “If—if that’s okay?”

“—yes,” Megamind whispers, “yes, that’s—that’s okay.”

Roxanne bites her lip and steps closer to him. Her gaze catches on his mouth, heat rushing to her face, butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach and around her heart. She glances back up; he’s watching her still, his eyes open and beautiful and unfairly green.

“Close your eyes,” she whispers.

He does, his lashes fluttering dark across his cheekbones, and something about that—the trust, she thinks dizzily, it’s the implied trust—makes her breath catch.

“I—but I won’t be able to—see what you’re doing…” Megamind says, and again Roxanne’s eyes are drawn to the shape of his mouth.

She slides one hand over his shoulder, feeling the material of his stolen tuxedo, feeling the shape of his body beneath it. Roxanne reaches up with her other hand and lays her fingertips soft against the side of his face, rubs her thumb lightly over his lower lip.

Megamind’s lips part a little in response.

“You don’t have to see, Megamind,” Roxanne whispers to him. “You just have to feel.”

He takes a small, quick breath and Roxanne leans forward that last inch and kisses him.

It’s—she was right, before, kissing him is—electric. She brushes her lips over his, gentle and slow, and it feels more achingly intimate than a simple kiss has any right to be. She feels him take another sharp breath, and it catches at her heart, sends a shock of desire through her—god, she wants—

She kisses him again, pressing her lips to his, now, instead of merely brushing their mouths together.

Roxanne is pretty sure, now, that Megamind wasn’t exaggerating when he said he’s never done any of this before; he doesn’t seem to know how to respond, at first, and his mouth is almost immobile, his lips stiff against hers. After a moment, though, his mouth softens and his lips begin, hesitantly, to move with hers.

She makes an involuntary noise of approval and presses herself a little closer, kisses him a little harder.

(she’s trying, trying to keep her half of the kiss under control; she needs to be careful with him, needs to—)

Roxanne slides her hand from his cheek to cradle the back of his head in her hand and Megamind makes a soft, shocked noise and clutches at her, his hands going to the small of her back, his fingers twisting in the fabric of her dress and Roxanne winds her other hand around his neck and kisses him harder, deeper, all her thoughts about careful and control flying apart.

Megamind gasps, the first time she flicks her tongue over his lower lip; the second time, he parts his lips for her, lets her slide her tongue against his, flicks his own tongue against hers, sweet, shy little movements that drive her absolutely wild.

(she wants to bite him, wants to shove him up against the glass door and kiss her way down his neck while she fumbles the handle open, wants to walk him backwards to the couch, still kissing him, wants to push him down so she can climb into his lap and—)

Megamind breaks the kiss.

“—your hair,” he says “can I—can I touch—? I’m—trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my hands—”

“Wh—what?” Roxanne asks, reeling. “I—yes?”

(she’d lost all coherent thought, had felt like she was drowning in that kiss, and Megamind had been thinking about where to put his hands?)

“Oh, good,” Megamind says, his fingers sliding into her hair as he leans forward to kiss her this time.

And—and it’s so good, the press of his mouth is more sure, now, and the clutch of his fingers in her hair is a fairly good imitation of desperation, and it’s easy to lose herself in the sensation again, to give herself over to the feeling of being kissed, but.

But.

(I don’t really do this)

(I’m trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my hands)

She breaks the kiss, panting for breath and Megamind steps away, looking uncertain again.

His mouth is tinted pink, too, now, like his cheeks and his ears, flushed pink from kissing her—oh god, he’s beautiful, and she wants—

“Did I do that right?” he asks.

“—yeah,” Roxanne says, the butterflies in her stomach turning into something hard and cold and heavy. “Yeah, that was—a good start. To the practicing. I’ll, um. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.”

“Shopping,” Megamind says.

“Shopping,” Roxanne agrees, and opens the balcony door quickly, before she does something stupid like give into the desire to kiss him again.

* * *

The flight back to the Lair is a bit of a blur for Megamind.

She kissed him! Kissed him! And not—not just like she did, before, either, in her living room.

That, on Roxanne’s balcony, that was—lightyears beyond that first kiss, an entire universe beyond the best mental images his mind has ever been able to imagine of what kissing Roxanne might be like.

The reality, it turns out, is—indescribable. He’s never felt anything like that, before: the sheer, complete pleasure of feeling her lips moving over his—her tongue, god—feeling her pulling him close, her hand on the back of his head sending shockwaves of shivery bliss down his spine, and the sensation of all of that, together, had whited out all of his thoughts except for the need to make sure that Roxanne was feeling this, too, that the kiss felt just as good to her, but he hadn’t known what he was doing, hadn’t even known where to put his hands, and—

Ridiculous to think, of course, that the kiss could have felt even one tenth as good to Roxanne as it felt to him—it didn’t mean anything to her, while to him it meant—everything, really. But he’d wanted, so badly, to make her feel good. And she’d said he could touch her hair…

(ohhhh evil gods, her hair was so soft and silky, and her head had fit so beautifully in his palms, which—had that? been inappropriate? holding her head like that? Humans don’t have the same erogenous zones as he does, he knows that; he’d felt like he’d died and gone to evil heaven when she put her hand on the back of his head, when she’d wound her arm around his neck, and oh no; maybe he shouldn’t have let her do that, either? He hadn’t exactly been expecting her to do it, and the feeling of it had sort of shorted out his brain, but—)

He should. he’s going to have to. explain. about that. isn’t he.

(shit.)

Because. Because Roxanne said that they’re going to practice more, and that sounds like maybe that means more kissing, and maybe he can get it right, the next time. Maybe he can do better.

He’d asked Roxanne, afterwards, if he’d done it right, and she’d said yes, but she’d looked—he hadn’t been able to read her expression, but it hadn’t really been a happy expression. And she’d went inside rather quickly, after that.

He’s probably terrible at kissing, isn’t he.

Or maybe she’d just been tired of his company? Megamind knows he can be rather wearing, in large doses. And she’s going to have to see him again tomorrow…

Tomorrow. He’s going to see Roxanne again tomorrow.

Maybe she’ll even kiss him again, tomorrow, he thinks, and his heart flips over.

* * *

Roxanne hides in her bedroom until she hears the sound of Megamind’s hoverbike taking off—and then fading into the distance as he flies away.

She slides to the floor.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Oh, fuck, Roxanne; what have you gotten yourself into?”

Bringing a fake boyfriend to a family function? Sad. Having a supervillain who kidnaps you regularly pretend to be your fake boyfriend at a family function? Pretty goddamn weird. Realizing you have a thing—she refuses to categorize it further than ‘thing’, refuses to examine the feeling more closely—having a thing for the supervillain who kidnaps you regularly and who is going to be pretending to be your fake boyfriend?

ThisIsSoBADROXANNE. OH GOD THIS IS SO BAD.

No. No no no. She can deal with this. She just. has to stay calm.

Calm.

Calm.

(Fuck fuck fuckity FUCK fuck her this is a fucking DISASTER.)

Calm.

(FUCK.)

Roxanne grips her hair in her hands, trying to ground herself, but it just makes her remember Megamind’s hands in her hair and—

(I’m trying to figure out what to do with my hands)

—and he apparently hadn’t been affected at all by the kiss that had left Roxanne breathless and aching. He’d been thinking about what to do with his hands, for god’s sake.

He’d said he didn’t do this sort of thing, that he’d never done this sort of thing and—

Oh.

Oh no.

Is—

Is he maybe asexual? Or—and—aromantic?

Or maybe he just doesn’t find humans attractive, maybe she’s too different—skin the wrong color, head the wrong size—for Megamind to ever look at her and want.

The way her heart falls at that makes her want to slap herself—stop being so dramatic! It’s just a—you just have a thing for him, it’s not like it’s—it’s not like you’re in—

Nope. Definitely just a thing. An unrequited thing, but still. Just. a thing.

She can—she can get through this. She faces much worse things on a weekly basis: alligators and bombs and giant robots with lasers and shit she’s thinking about Megamind again has she always thought about him this much how did she not notice this?

It’s—it’s just a thing. And—and maybe this—the pretending, maybe it’ll work out for the best! Help her get him out of her system.

Yes. That’s—that’s a good way to look at it.

(fuck. fuck. FUCK.)

Oh, fuck it; she’s going to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued.
> 
> Thank you for all of the reviews! I really appreciate them so much; getting them is always so exciting! (And thank you for all of the birthday wishes, too!)


	9. Chapter 9

Megamind is late the next day, which gives Roxanne more than enough time to dither over whether or not she’s chosen the best outfit for this shopping excursion.

Which is _ridiculous_.

It’s just Megamind! This isn’t a real date! It doesn’t matter what she wears!

“You look nice,” Megamind says, as soon as Roxanne lets him in, and Roxanne’s heart gives a stupid triumphant flip, but then he adds, “I’m supposed to say that, right?”

She forces a laugh.

_Supposed to say that._

She knew she shouldn’t have bothered wearing her most flattering jeans and her cute black flats and the sky blue shirt that she’s always felt brings out her eyes.

 _Supposed to say that._ He would have said it no matter _what_ she was wearing; it’s not like he _means_ it.

(god, she really needs to get back to dating if she’s letting this weird attraction to Megamind mess with her head this much.)

“Yeah, that’s—feel free to say that any time,” she says. “And you look—”

She takes a closer look at Megamind’s clothes. He’s wearing the Michael Niebieski face again, and he’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark blue electrician’s shirt with the collar popped up.

(Roxanne pointedly ignores the rush of affection she feels at seeing that popped collar.)

The name Michael is embroidered on the front pocket of the shirt in white.

“—you look like an electrician,” she finishes.

“Hm? Oh! Yes,” Megamind says, “that’s why I’m late, actually; sorry about that. Your, ah, doorman has been having some difficulties with the lobby wiring. Apparently he’s been calling the management about it for weeks; when I walked in, he assumed that the building owner had finally called someone to deal with it.”

Roxanne raises her eyebrows even.

“And you didn’t correct this assumption?” she says.

Megamind shifts uncomfortably.

“I mean—he seemed—really relieved to see me,” he says.

“Oh my god,” Roxanne says, realization dawning—so that’s why he agreed to this fake-dating plan so easily!— “Oh my god, Megamind, you’re a fucking _soft touch!_ ”

“Wh—no! I’m—no I’m not!” Megamind looks hunted.

“Did you even charge him?”

“Of course I couldn’t charge him!” Megamind says, gesturing, “The management didn’t actually call me; he could get into trouble if he gave me any—”

Megamind winces and then rubs a hand over his face, then hides his face in his palm with a groan.

Roxanne laughs and Megamind looks at her through his fingers, hand still on his face.

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you, Miss Ritchi?” he says.

She laughs again.

“Soft touch,” she says, giving him a teasing smile. She shakes her head in affectionate incredulity. “Only you would think of being _nice_ as something to _live down_ , Megamind. And it’s Roxanne, remember?”

“Roxanne,” Megamind says, letting his hand fall and straightening his spine. “Yes. _Roxanne_.”

He still looks uncertain and uncomfortable, though, so Roxanne takes pity on him and changes the subject.

“Are those clothes real?” she asks, pointing.

“What? Oh—no,” Megamind says, looking down at his outfit. “That’s the disguise watch.”

“Really?” Roxanne reaches out and touches the embroidery on his chest. “That’s fascinating; I can feel the texture and everything.”

“Like I said,” Megamind says. “Hard light hologram. It mimics the physical sensation of the disguise. The Michael Niebieski disguise includes his electrician’s uniform.”

“When you showed me it yesterday, though, you were still in your normal clothes,” Roxanne says.

“Yes, the disguise watch has different layers!” Megamind says, reaching for the dial of the watch and twisting it. “See? Clothes—” suddenly he’s dressed in black leather again, although Roxanne notices that he left off the spikes and the cape and the gloves, “—body—” he turns the dial again and he’s himself again, blue and large-headed, “—there’s a voice-change layer, too, but I don’t use that with this disguise, usually, although I suppose that I could if you want me to—”

“No, I like your voice,” Roxanne says, before she can tell herself to choose her words more carefully.

Megamind blinks at her, as though he’s not sure how to process that statement.

“You can turn the layers off and on individually, in any order?” Roxanne asks.

“—um, yes! Yes, you can,” Megamind says, jumping slightly and twisting the dial of the watch again.

His body seems to flicker and blur for a second, and then he’s dressed in the electrician’s uniform again, although this time he’s still wearing his real face.

“God, that is so cool,” Roxanne murmurs, moving around him to look at the hologram from different angles.

Megamind looks sharply over his shoulder at her, an expression of shocked pleasure on his face.

The words Niebeski Electric are printed across the back of his shirt. Roxanne reaches out to trace over the letters with her fingertips, then frowns, a thought teasing at the back of her mind.

Niebeski…why does that sound vaguely familiar?

“Why Niebieski?” she asks, tapping the name.

“Metrocity has a sizeable Polish population,” Megamind says, “and niebieski is the Polish word for—”

“—blue,” Roxanne says. “It’s the Polish word for blue; I knew it sounded familiar!”

Megamind grins at her over his shoulder.

“It can also mean celestial,” he says, “which I thought was also enjoyable as a double meaning, although that particular connotation is mostly archaic, unless you’re using it in a religious sense, rather than an astronomy-sense.”

Roxanne laughs, coming around to face him again.

“Oh my god, you complete and utter nerd!” she says.

Megamind bites his lip, still grinning, his eyes sparkling.

“I like wordplay,” he says, “that’s how I pick out most of the names for my false identities, really, they’re almost always puns or plays on the different meanings of words that—”

He cuts himself off abruptly, and Roxanne remembers last night, and the way he’d said that he hadn’t meant to tell her his true reasons for fighting Metro Man. Of course—of course he didn’t mean to tell her about the logic behind his fake name choices, either.

“It’s okay,” Roxanne says, “I’m not going to tell anyone, Megamind.”

He looks at her warily and doesn’t answer.

“Really,” she says. “I’m—I want you to know that anything you tell me, anything that happens, with this, with what we’re doing together, I’m not going to use it against you, okay? I mean—that would be a really shitty thing to do, in the first place, since you’re doing this as a favor to me, and— And there wouldn’t be any reason for me to want to, Megamind; I told you, I know what you’ve done for the city, with managing all of the crime. Why would I want to make that harder for you?”

Megamind glances away, eyes avoiding hers.

“I told you, it’s not a favor,” he mutters.

“—yeah, okay, regardless,” Roxanne says. (why is he so insistent about the not-a-favor thing?) “I’m not going to use anything that happens with this to screw things up for you, all right?”

Megamind looks at her again, his expression uncertain.

“What about—what about Metro Man?” he asks.

Roxanne makes an involuntary face.

“What about him?”

“I—I mean, during evil plots,” Megamind says, gesturing, “you always—the things you find out, if they’re useful to him, if you can use them to—help defeat me, you tell him…”

“I’m not going to do that with any of this.”

Megamind frowns.

“I promise, Megamind,” Roxanne says, “I swear. This—the wedding thing is separate, completely separate from all of the—supervillain-and-damsel stuff. I’m not going to use any of this against you. Even during evil plots. I promise. Honestly—” Roxanne cuts herself off with a sigh and rubs a hand over her face.

“…what?” Megamind asks in a tentative voice.

“Honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to go back to the usual routine, anyway, with the snarky comments and helping Wayne win,” Roxanne says. “I mean now that I know why you’re doing it, I’m just going to feel—”

“We can go back to the usual routine!” Megamind says, looking panicked, “You can! We can! It won’t be—you—”

He flinches back, shoulders curving in slightly, looking as though something awful has just occurred to him.

“What?” Roxanne asks.

“I—I should, shouldn’t I?” he says, eyes fixed on the floor. “I should stop. Stop—I always thought—that being Metro Man’s girlfriend must be worth all of the kidnappings to you, so even though you hated them, you weren’t entirely miserable or anything, but if you haven’t even really been dating him, then there aren’t actually any perks for you and I should—”

“No!” Roxanne says, understanding where he’s going with this.

Megamind’s head jerks up, his eyes surprised.

“I don’t want you to stop kidnapping me,” she says quickly.

Megamind’s entire body twitches at that, and yeah, that’s not really a thing Roxanne ever expected to hear herself say, either, but—

“I mean—I get it, now, why you feel like you need to do the supervillain thing,” Roxanne says, feeling her face going hot but trying to explain because this is important. “And I would prefer that you didn’t feel like you have to. But—but if you’re going to do it, then I want to be there, Megamind.”

Megamind stares at her as though he thinks she may have lost her mind.

“But—why?” he asks.

“Because—you’re the most exciting thing that happens in Metro City,” Roxanne says.

“—oh,” Megamind says, “I—yes, I suppose a supervillain is—”

“No,” Roxanne says, “no, it’s not because you’re—you would be the most exciting thing no matter what you were doing, Megamind, I told you, you could do anything. The stuff you make is—if you were an engineer instead of a supervillain, I would still be reporting on your inventions. I just—wouldn’t be tied up while I was doing it.”

Megamind stares at her, eyes wide.

“But—but you think my inventions are stupid!” he says, “You think they’re ridiculous; you say so all the time!”

“I think what you choose to do with them is stupid!” Roxanne says, gesturing, and then grimaces, running a hand through her hair, “Or—I did, anyway, before I understood why you—” She makes a noise of frustration.

Megamind is still staring at her.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

Roxanne blinks at him, caught off guard.

“Uh—wh—?”

“I was going to ask, before, but then we got off-topic,” Megamind says, his eyes fixed intently on her face. “After talking about the protocol for compliments. I—I thought—the kiss—it wasn’t very good last time, I know, but—I’m sure that practice—”

_The kiss wasn’t very good last time._

That comment registers like a blow to Roxanne’s chest; it’s all she can do not to physically reel backwards from it.

_The kiss wasn’t very good last time._

“Sure,” Roxanne says, smiling carelessly even though she wants to curl up into a ball of misery and mortification. “Practice is—yeah. Of course.”

_The kiss wasn’t very good last time._

(oh god, she took it too far and disgusted him, didn’t she? or maybe he just finds her so completely unappealing that—)

“There are lots of different ways to kiss, though!” she says quickly, and hopes she doesn’t sound as desperate as she feels.

Megamind, who had taken half a step towards her, stops.

“Different ways?” he asks.

“Yeah, like, um—” Roxanne puts one hand on his chest and gives him a peck on the lips, “—quick casual kiss,” she says. “That’s—usually more what it’s like, if you’re—kissing in public, you know? Or there’s—” she kisses his cheekbone, “—a kiss on the cheek. Or a kiss—” she moves her hand to his shoulder and goes up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his temple, “—here.”

Megamind makes a startled noise when she kisses his temple, a sweet, half-smothered sort of gasp that Roxanne immediately decides she wants to hear over and over again.

She catches his face in her hands and tips his head down, going up on her toes a little more so that she can press a kiss to his forehead.

He gasps again, a little louder this time.

“Here,” Roxanne whispers. She rocks back onto her heels and kisses the tip of his nose. “Or here.”

She kisses his chin, then tips his head a little to the side so that she can press a kiss to the sharp corner of his jaw.

“—here,” Roxanne murmurs, and kisses the pink-tipped curve of his ear.

“—or here,” she whispers, lips pressed to his ear, then tilts his head a little more so that she can kiss his neck.

His pulse is racing; she can feel it beneath her lips, and Roxanne immediately lets go of him and steps back, her conscience scolding her.

Megamind isn’t used to being touched; he told her that, when they were sitting on her couch together, when she reached for his watch and he flinched away from her. She’s probably overwhelming him and making him feel panicked.

“Anyway, you get the idea, right?” she says, tone as brisk and businesslike as she can make it.

There is a beat of silence between them.

“—the—I—yes,” Megamind says, and then he swallows. Roxanne has to force herself to look away from the movement of his throat. “I—I understand the—um—general. concept. Do you—want me to—?”

He gestures vaguely at her face; Roxanne forces herself to keep her expression unchanged.

“Yeah, you can give it a try now if you want,” she says.

Megamind swallows again and steps forward. He kisses her on the cheek, fast and light, barely a kiss at all. He leans back and looks at her, an expression of nervous inquiry on his face.

“Good,” Roxanne says softly.

A look of relief crosses his face. He leans forward quickly and kisses the tip of her nose. When he glances at her face again this time, he’s still so close that the effect is somewhat comical. Roxanne smiles at him and tips her chin up, nudging his nose with hers.

The move seems to catch Megamind off guard; he gives a squeak of surprise and tries to look down at his own nose.

Roxanne laughs quietly.

“Good,” she says, grinning up at him.

He glances at her face again, and he must be able to read in her expression that she means it, because he smiles back at her and kisses her nose again, then bumps their noses together the way that she did.

Megamind leans back to look at her again, both of them smiling, and then his gaze flicks to her mouth and his smile melts away.

He catches his lower lip between his teeth—Roxanne is pretty sure the movement is unconscious and completely innocent, but it still makes her want to bite his lip herself.

His eyes flick up again, meeting hers, and he takes a sharp breath, lets it out shakily.

He reaches up to touch her face; Roxanne is expecting him to cup her cheek in his hand and then lean in to kiss her—

—but instead he brushes her hair over her forehead and tucks it behind her ear.

The movement is careful and gentle, and that, coupled with the way he gives her another uncertain look, as though he’s asking wordlessly if it was all right, does something strange to Roxanne’s heart, makes it beat faster, makes it almost hurt.

“Good,” she whispers.

He looks relieved, and then he bends forward and kisses her on the forehead.

When he pulls back this time to look at her face, Roxanne can’t seem to form words, but she nods at him slightly.

His hand is still on her face from when he brushed her hair back, his fingertips resting light against her cheekbone. He slides them down now, over the curve of her jaw. The touch is still light, but Roxanne’s entire being feels completely focused on the slow, whisper-glide of his fingertips over her skin.

Megamind’s thumb brushes over her lower lip and his eyes drop again to her mouth and that seems, somehow, more intimate than an actual kiss would be from anyone else.

He tips her face up, his thumb sliding lightly from her lip to touch her chin. Roxanne’s eyes flutter shut as he bends forward.

Her lips are parted already in anticipation of the kiss, but when it comes, he doesn’t touch his lips to hers as she expects. He kisses her skin just beneath the right side of her mouth—

—her beauty mark, Roxanne realizes; he’s kissing her beauty mark.

The touch of his lips there, like that—it goes through her in a rush of heat, dry paper touched by a match; suddenly she’s on fire.

She turns her head and catches his mouth with her own, too overwhelmed to do more than brush her lips against his and hope desperately that he understands what she wants.

Maybe he does understand, because he does kiss her at last.

It’s nowhere near as hard and fast and deep as Roxanne wants, though.

Instead, the kiss is slow and light and almost unbearably gentle, his lips moving over hers in something like a caress—her lower lip, her top lip, the corners of her mouth, as if he can’t bear to leave any part of her lips unkissed.

He grazes the tip of his tongue over the curve of her lower lip and Roxanne can’t help gasping, and gasping again when his tongue flicks against hers.

The fingertips of his right hand are still beneath her chin; he reaches up with his left hand and touches the corner of her jaw, then slides that hand down, his thumb brushing over her pulse point and his fingertips slipping just barely into her hair.

He deepens the kiss slightly, his tongue stroking over hers, slow and gentle and almost—almost _reverent_.

Roxanne’s never been kissed like this before, never felt like this before. She didn’t even know a kiss _could_ feel like this. It’s like being _worshipped_.

When Megamind ends the kiss and gently pulls away, it takes her several seconds to remember to open her eyes.

She does, though, opening her eyes to see Megamind, still standing so close, one of his hands on her face and the other in her hair.

“Was that okay?” he asks in a low voice.

For a long moment, Roxanne’s thoughts are far too scattered to coalesce into anything like words. Megamind pulls his hands away from her and steps back, looking nervous again.

“I mean,” he says, with a quick, fluttering gesture of one hand, “I know I need more practice, and I’m sure I can do better—”

(holy hell if he gets any better, Roxanne might actually die the next time he kisses her)

“That was—” Roxanne’s voice comes out rougher than she’d like; she stops to clear her throat. “That—ah—are you—sure you’ve never kissed anyone before?”

Megamind’s eyebrows draw together slightly.

“No, just—just you, yesterday,” he says.

Roxanne swallows. Jesus. He barely even touched her, just his fingertips on her face and in her hair and his mouth against hers, and her entire body feels absolutely alight.

“You,” Roxanne says, “you are a very quick study.”

Megamind’s body relaxes visibly with relief.

“Really?” he says. “So that was okay?”

“That was—” Roxanne takes a shaky breath and runs a hand through her hair. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

Megamind’s face lights up and it is entirely unfair the way he looks even more attractive when he smiles.

Roxanne wants to yank out her own hair in frustration with herself. Why? Why did she have to decide to be attracted to Megamind at the worst possible moment?

“Well,” she says, and gestures at the door, “shall we?”

“Ah! Of course,” Megamind says, stepping aside to allow her to open the door.

Roxanne locks the door behind herself and the two of them start down the hall together towards the elevator.

“Miss—ah— _Roxanne_?” Megamind says.

Roxanne glances over at him.

“Yes?”

“Can—can we practice holding hands?” he asks.

Roxanne swallows and feels heat rise to her face. Wordlessly, she holds out her hand.

Megamind takes it, lacing their fingers together, and Roxanne feels the touch like an electric shock.

They hold hands as they walk down the hall and it’s not until they actually step into the elevator that Roxanne realizes they both forgot to turn Megamind’s disguise back on.

“Watch! Watch _watch_ **_watch!_** ” Roxanne hisses urgently, smacking his shoulder.

Megamind’s eyes fly wide and he scrambles to turn the dial of the disguise watch.

Michael Niebieski’s face flickers into visibility, brown skin over blue, and even in the midst of her relief at the potential disaster averted just in time, Roxanne still feels a pang of regret when Megamind’s real face disappears.

She half collapses back against the wall, more in dismay than in relief, and closes her eyes.

Immediately, the memory of that kiss hits her.

(god, if he kisses like that, imagine what he’s like in bed.)

(oh god)

(oh god _stop imagining it! **stop imagining it!**_ )

She opens her eyes, cheeks burning, and forces herself to stare straight ahead, at the elevator buttons, but she feels all to aware of Megamind standing right next to her and—

A touch at her hand, light and uncertain, and Roxanne spreads her fingers automatically, without even thinking, so that Megamind can take her hand again.

Dear god what has she gotten herself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued.
> 
> Thank you all so much for continuing to be interested in this story! 
> 
> I know it was a long time between updates; I got really blocked for some reason--blocked about writing in general, and then blocked with this story, specifically, for a while, too. (extremely not fun) 
> 
> Finally being able to continue it was such a relief!
> 
> So! I hope you all enjoyed the long-awaited, much-belated, FINALLY UPDATED new chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

“Oh, my god,” Roxanne breathes, her eyes wide.

Megamind, watching her face, grins.

“You liked the hoverbike so much,” he says, “I figured you might like this, too.”

Roxanne moves around the motorcycle, looking it over appreciatively. It really is very, very pretty—small and light, as far as motorcycles go, all gleaming silver chrome and black paint with the same pattern of blue lightning bolts as the hoverbike. It looks a little like the hoverbike, really, a little like all of Megamind’s inventions—the ones he actually cares about enough to make them look good.

“You made this,” Roxanne says.

It’s more a statement than a question; she’s not surprised when Megamind makes a noise of assent. “It’s gorgeous.” She glances at Megamind. “But we’re not going to be able to go shopping on it,” she says, with real regret.

Megamind blinks, his expression going uncertain, like he’s suddenly afraid she’s going to laugh, or say something cutting.

“Packages,” Roxanne says, as gently as she can, “All of the—shopping bags and stuff.”

Megamind’s expression clears.

“Oh!” he says. “That’s—you don’t have to worry about that; I brought the de-gun!”

Brought the—?

Roxanne laughs.

“—unexpected mundane uses of supervillain weaponry,” she says.

Megamind arches an eyebrow, a smile at the edges of his mouth.

“Well, you know the gun has a decoupage setting, don’t you?”

Roxanne laughs again.

“You’re kidding!”

Megamind grins at her.

“No, it really does,” he says.

Roxanne shakes her head, snickering.

“So the motorcycle is really okay, then?” he asks, “I brought you an extra helmet.”

“The motorcycle is great,” Roxanne says, and then gives him a teasing kind of smile. “Although I definitely wouldn’t have minded finally getting to actually see the invisible car.”

Megamind, handing her the helmet, tilts his head, frowning slightly.

“You’ve never seen—?”  
Roxanne gives him a wry look as she puts the helmet on.

“Megamind, I haven’t ever even seen the front seat of it.”

“—oh,” he says, looking surprised. “That’s—I—I suppose you haven’t.”

He gives his head a little shake and reaches for his own helmet. Roxanne, finished with her own, watches interestedly—his helmet is the same size as hers; she’s extremely curious about how he’s going to fit it onto his head.

Megamind looks around in a seemingly casual way—checking to make sure no one’s around, that no one is watching, Roxanne thinks—and then he twists the dial on the disguise watch.

An image of the helmet pops up on his head, identical to the one in his hands. Megamind puts the real helmet on in a quick motion.

There is a single, disconcerting instant when the helmet seems to glitch like an image on a television screen with poor reception—it’s somehow both an ordinary sized helmet on the image of Mi Niebeski’s head, and also a larger helmet floating in the air above Mi Niebeski’s head, and then—

Roxanne blinks; the glitch is gone, and there’s only one, normal sized helmet, on the human-sized head.

“There’s another disguise generator in the helmet,” Megamind says, “not hard-light, though; it’s a variation of the invisible car’s refraction technology. The hard-light’s new; I haven’t gotten around to updating everything. Hence the whole—”

He gestures, a quick, sharp move of his hand.

“Exactly how does the watch deal with your head, anyway?” Roxanne asks, fascinated. “I didn’t even think to ask before, but there’s no way it actually shrinks your head, right?”

Megamind laughs.

“No,” he says, “there are limits even to hard-light—it makes it look like my head isn’t there, but—here, touch.”

He bends his head forward and Roxanne reaches up to put a hand on the top of the helmet. Her hand stops, though, in the air several inches away from what looks to be the top of the helmet.

“Hard-light can mimic most textures,” he says, “but—”

“But it can’t make something feel like nothing,” Roxanne finishes, running her palm over what looks to be empty air, but feels like a motorcycle helmet.

“Exactly.”

“So I should probably not put my hand on the top of your head when you’re in disguise,” Roxanne says.

There’s a momentary pause before Megamind answers.

“—ah—well—no,” he says, “um. Probably not.”

He straightens up and Roxanne lets her hand fall back to her side. Megamind clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, “where are we going first, Miss—ah—Roxanne?”

* * *

“So you need a wedding present, a bridal shower present, and a bachelorette party present?” Megamind asks, sounding fascinated. “That’s a lot of presents.”

Roxanne, critically regarding a set of greenish-yellow dinnerware, nods feelingly.

“I know,” she says, “and the bride gives the bridesmaids all a present, too. And I need to buy cards for the wedding, the shower, and the bachelorette party. And they keep a list of presents and send you a card later, thanking you for whatever you gave them. It’s a whole gift-giving production. This dishware’s really ugly, right? I’m not just imagining how ugly it is?”

“It’s extremely ugly,” Megamind says.

Roxanne makes a face.

“Oh, well, I guess at least we’re not the ones who have to live with it,” she says. “What else is on that list?”

Megamind takes the box of ugly dinnerware down from the shelf and puts it in their cart.

“Cloudsoft five-hundred thread count egyptian cotton sheets in eggshell white,” he recites, without even glancing at the list again. “Ultraluxe bath towel set in celadon green, Weather Proof rustic welcome mat in camel brown, and KitchenArt Food Processor in coral.”

“Food processor,” Roxanne decides, leading the way to the appliance aisle, “That can be for the bridal shower, and we’ll give her the hideous dishware for the wedding.”

“And the bachelorette party?” Megamind says, pushing the cart and following Roxanne.

“The bachelorette party?”

“Which one do you want for the bachelorette party gift?”

“Er—no,” Roxanne says, stopping in front of the shelf of kitchen appliances. “That’s, uh. You don’t—you don’t give gifts like these at the bachelorette party.”

Megamind, pulling a boxed-up, coral colored food processor down from the shelf, gives her a look of innocent curiosity.

“Bachelorette parties aren’t like wedding showers,” Roxanne says.

“But both parties are only for women?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Roxanne says, “but—I mean, wedding showers are like—you play cutesy games and drink lemonade and talk to the bride’s grandma. Bachelorette parties are like—uh, I mean—you all wear penis shaped jewelry and go out drinking and dancing,” she finishes in an awkward rush.

“What—you wear—what kind of jewelry?” Megamind asks in a strangled voice.

Roxanne feels her face heat, but she waves a hand as airily as she can.

“Penis shaped,” she says again, and pretends she doesn’t want to die just a little bit, “the—uh—everything is penis shaped at bachelorette parties—party favors and decorations and—that’s what I’m talking about, bachelorette parties, you give gifts that are, you know—”

Megamind stares at her with saucer-wide eyes.

“—sex—joke—gift. things,” Roxanne says, and dear god, why did she ever start this explanation?

Megamind’s eyes go, if possible, even rounder.

“Like lingerie or fancy lubricant,” Roxanne says, aware that she’s babbling, but somehow unable to stop herself, “or blindfolds and handcuffs—”

(shit sHIT SHIT why did she mention BLINDFOLDS and HANDCUFFS to MEGAMIND—)

“—handcuffs?” Megamind asks faintly.

“Sex handcuffs!” Roxanne says quickly, which _definitely doesn’t make anything better in any fucking way oh god._

“Let’s pick out cards!” she says, making what is probably the most abrupt conversational handbrake turn in the entire history of the universe, and fairly flees towards the card display aisle.

* * *

 

“Oh!” Megamind says.

They’ve been looking at cards (and very carefully not at each other) for five minutes in silence, so Roxanne is able to glance over at him without blushing too terribly much.

He’s smiling—almost laughing, and Roxanne finds herself smiling back even though she’s not sure of the joke.

He shows her a card with an umbrella and glittery raindrops on the front of it.

“Shower!” he says gleefully, as if the pun is the cleverest thing he’s ever heard.

Roxanne laughs, shaking her head, and reaches for the card.

“And it’s pretty, too!” Megamind says.

Roxanne looks up at him again, and sees, with amusement, that there’s glitter sticking to his fingers.

“Yeah,” she says. “This one’s nice. Which one do you think for the wedding?”

“Oooh!”

Megamind turns to the card display again with every evidence of actual excitement.

Roxanne’s not surprised when he picks out the gaudiest card of the bunch—ivory colored, edged with lace, a wedding cake picked out on the front of it in rhinestones and imitation pearls.

It’s not anything like what Roxanne would have chosen—left to her own devices, she’s pretty sure she would have chosen one of the plain white and silver cards.

(god. when did she get so—so boring?)

She leads the way to the register.

(was she ever actually not boring?)

“Can I pay for half of this?” Megamind asks.

“What? Roxanne says distractedly.

(maybe she was always this boring, maybe she just never noticed before)

“Oh—no,” she says, realizing what he’s asked, “no, you don’t have to pay for anything, Megami— _Mi_.”

Megamind frowns.

“No,” he says, “that’s not—I’d like to.”

“What?” Roxanne says with an incredulous little laugh, “Why would you want to?”

“Well, I—I mean—” Megamind gestures with one hand, lowering his voice, “—the—wedding gift, at least, is supposed to be half from me, isn’t it? If we were actually—we would be buying it together, wouldn’t we, Miss Rit— _Roxanne?”_

“Yeah, but,” Roxanne says, “I’m not—it seems kind of unfair to make you go through all this and make you pay, too, Meg—ah—I mean— _Mi_.”

“You’re not making me do anything,” Megamind says in a forceful whisper. “I don’t understand why you keep—If you recall, I’m the one who suggested this, Miss Ri— _Roxanne_.”

“Only because I made you tell me your idea, Meg— _damn it_ —Mi!”

“It was still my idea, Miss— _fuck_ —Roxanne!”

Roxanne gives a snort of laughter and Megamind gives her a look that’s half unwilling amusement and half frustration, and then laughs, too.

“Okay, so we’re both really bad at this,” she says, “and we clearly need to practice arguing before we do it in front of other people.”

“I—I don’t want to argue,” Megamind says. “You don’t have to let me pay for any of it. I apologize; I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Roxanne blinks, taken aback by this sudden capitulation. Uncomfortable? That isn’t—

“I’m—I’m not—uncomfortable,” she says, “I just—I’m not going to make you go through all of—” she gestures, indicating the store, the cart, herself, “—this, and spend money on it, too.”

“Why—” Megamind’s hand flutter in a frustrated kind of way. “I told you, I want to do this. I’ve never—I’ve never gotten to do anything like this before.”

“I’ve never exfoliated with a cheese grater before,” Roxanne says, mouth twisting, “that doesn’t mean it would be fun.”

Megamind makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat and rolls his eyes.

“I assure you, Miss Ritchi, I’ve a very thorough working knowledge of torture and torment, and this is nothing like either of those things!”

Roxanne raises her eyebrows sardonically.

“Oh, have you exfoliated with a cheese grater before, then?” she asks.

“I’m not allowed to cook anymore,” Megamind says, giving her a look of exaggeratedly offended distain.

Roxanne gives a little laugh and makes a face at him, and he drops the pose. He half turns away, lips quirked in a small smile. He glances at her out of the corners of his eyes.

“Are you really not having any fun?” he asks, his voice a little wistful. “Is there—something I could be doing differently?”

“No!” Roxanne says guiltily. “No, that’s—I—I am kind of having fun, actually, I just—”

She shakes her head. Megamind gives her a questioning look and she pulls a face.

“Nothing,” she says, “I’m being stupid. You can pay for half if you really want to, Megamind.”

His face lights up like she’s the one who’s doing him a favor, and Roxanne’s heart does a stupid little flip.

(they’re halfway to the register line before she realizes she’s used his real name again)

_(goddamn it)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued.
> 
> Day seventeen of my Birthday Fic Month! And day six of the Megamind Valentine's week event! The prompt used was 'fake dating'.


End file.
